NORTHERN TRAVEL. NORTHERN TRAVEL. BAYARD TAYLOR. [Illustration: The Vöring Foss. ] NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM. 1859. NORTHERN TRAVEL: Summer and Winter Pictures OF SWEDEN, DENMARK AND LAPLAND, BY BAYARD TAYLOR. NEW YORK:G. P. PUTNAM, 115 NASSAU-STREET. 1859. ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by G. P. PUTNAM, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. PREFACE. This book requires no further words of introduction than those withwhich I have prefaced former volumes--that my object in travel isneither scientific, statistical, nor politico-economical; but simplyartistic, pictorial, --if possible, panoramic. I have attempted to draw, with a hand which, I hope, has acquired a little steadiness from longpractice, the people and the scenery of Northern Europe, to colour mysketches with the tints of the originals, and to invest each one withits native and characteristic atmosphere. In order to do this, I haveadopted, as in other countries, a simple rule: to live, as near aspossible, the life of the people among whom I travel. The history ofSweden and Norway, their forms of Government, commerce, productiveindustry, political condition, geology, botany, and agriculture, can befound in other works, and I have only touched upon such subjects whereit was necessary to give completeness to my pictures. I have endeavouredto give photographs, instead of diagrams, or tables of figures; anddesire only that the untravelled reader, who is interested in thecountries I visit, may find that he is able to see them by the aid ofmy eyes. BAYARD TAYLOR. LONDON: November, 1857. CONTENTS. Page CHAPTER I. A WINTER VOYAGE ON THE BALTIC. Embarking at Lübeck--Put into a Hut--The Company on Board--Nighton the Baltic--Ystad--A Life Lost--Stopped by Ice--A Gale--TheSwedish Coast--Arrival at Dalarö--Conscientious Custom-HouseOfficer 13 CHAPTER II. STOCKHOLM--PREPARATIONS FOR THE NORTH. Departure in Sleds--A Meteor--Winter Scenery--Swedish Post-Stations--View of Stockholm--Arrival--Stockholm Weather--SwedishIgnorance of the North--Funds--Equipment 21 CHAPTER III. FIRST EXPERIENCES OF NORTHERN TRAVEL. A Swedish Diligence--Aspect of the Country--Upsala--A Fellow-Passenger--The Northern Gods--Scenery--Churches--Peasant'sHouses--Arrival at Gefle--_Förbud_ Papers--Speaking Swedish--Daylight at Gefle--A Cold Italian--Experience of _Skjuts_and _Förbud_--We reach Snow--Night Travel--An Arabic Landlord--A Midnight Chase--Quarters at Bro--The Second Day--We reachSundsvall 27 CHAPTER IV. A SLEIGH RIDE THROUGH NORRLAND. Sundsvall and the Norrlanders--Purchase Sleighs--Start again--Driving on the Ice--Breakfast at Fjäl--Twilight Hymn--Angermannland--A Bleak Day--Scenery of Norrland--Postillions--Increase of Cold--Dark Travel--The Norrland People--The Country and its Products--Northern Thanks--Umeå--The Inn at Innertafle 39 CHAPTER V. PROGRESS NORTHWARD--A STORM. Christmas Temperature--First Experience of intense Cold--Phenomenathereof--Arctic Travel--Splendour of the Scenery--The NorthernNature--Gross Appetites--My Nose and the Mercury Frozen--DrearyTravel--Skellefteå and its Temple--A Winter Storm--The Landladyat Abyn--Ploughing out--Travelling in a Tempest--Reach Piteå. 50 CHAPTER VI. JOURNEY FROM PITEÅ TO HAPARANDA. Torment--Under the Aurora Borealis--A Dismal Night--Around theBothnian Gulf--Forest Scenery--Månsbyn--The Suspicious Iron-Master--Brother Horton and the Cold--A Trial of Languages--AnotherStorm--New Year's Day--Entrance into Finland--The Finns--Haparanda. 62 CHAPTER VII. CROSSING THE ARCTIC CIRCLE. Medical Treatment--The Kind Fredrika--Morals in the North--OurQuarters at Haparanda--Vain Questions--Start for Lapland--ArcticDaylight--Campbell's Torneå--A Finnish Inn--Colours of the ArcticSky--Approach to Avasaxa--Crossing the Arctic Circle--An AfternoonSunset--Reception at Juoxengi 72 CHAPTER VIII. ADVENTURES AMONG THE FINNS. Journey up the Torneå--Wonders of the Winter Woods--Lapps andReindeer--My Finnish Vocabulary--A Night Journey--Reception atKengis--Continue the Journey--Finnish Sleds--A Hard Day--TheInn at Jokijalka--Its Inmates--Life in a Finnish Hut--An ArcticPicture--A Frozen Country--Kihlangi--A Polar Night--Parkajoki--Wereach Muoniovara. 83 CHAPTER IX. LIFE IN LAPLAND. Reception at Muoniovara--Mr. Wolley--Our Lapland Home--A FinnishBath--Send for Reindeer--A Finnish House--Stables--The ReindeerPulk--My first Attempt at driving Reindeer--Failure and Success--Muonioniska--View from the Hill--Fears of an old Finn--TheDiscovery of America--A Lapp Witch--Reindeer Accident. 98 CHAPTER X. A REINDEER JOURNEY ACROSS LAPLAND. Preparations for the Journey--Departure--A lazy Deer--"LongIsaac"--An Auroral Spectacle--A Night at Palajoki--The Table-Landof Lapland--Sagacity of the Deer--Driving a wild Reindeer--PolarPoetry--Lippajärvi--Picture of a Lapp--The Night--A PhantomJourney--The Track lost--A Lapp Encampment--Two Hours in a LappTent--We start again--Descent into Norway--Heavy Travel--Lapp Hutin Siepe--A Fractious Reindeer--Drive to Kautokeino. 101 CHAPTER XI. KAUTOKEINO--A DAY WITHOUT A SUN. Lapland Etiquette--The Inn--Quarters at the Länsman's--Situationof Kautokeino--Climate--Life--Habits of the Population--Approachof Sunrise--Church Service in Lapland--Cold Religion--Noondaywithout Sunrise--The North and the South--A Vision--Visits of theLapps--Lars Kaino--A Field for Portrait-painting--Character ofthe Lapp Race--Their present Condition--The religious Outbreak atKautokeino--Pastor Hvoslef--A Piano in Lapland--The Schools--Visitto a Gamme 126 CHAPTER XII. THE RETURN TO MUONIOVARA. Advantages of Lapp Costume--Turning Southward--Departure fromKautokeino--A Lapp Hut--Religion--The Reindeer--Their Qualities--Treatment by the Lapps--Annoyances of Reindeer Travel--Enduranceof Northern Girls--The Table-Land--The "Roof of the World"--Journeyto Lippajärvi--Descent to the Muonio--Female Curiosity--The Returnto Muoniovara--Prosaic Life of the Lapps--Modern Prudery. 141 CHAPTER XIII. ABOUT THE FINNS. Change of Plans--Winter in Lapland--The Finns--Their PhysicalAppearance--Character--Drunkenness--A Spiritual Epidemic--Morality--Contradictory Customs--Family Names and Traditions--Apathy of Northern Life--The Polar Zone--Good Qualities of theRace--An English Naturalist. 154 CHAPTER XIV. EXPERIENCES OF ARCTIC WEATHER. Departure from Muoniovara--50° below Zero--A terrible Day--AnArctic Night--Jokijalka again--Travelling down the Torneå--ANight at Kardis--Increase of Daylight--Juoxengi--A Struggle forLife--Difficulty of keeping awake--Frozen Noses--The Norseman'sHell--Freezing Travellers--Full Daylight again--Safe Arrival atHaparanda--Comfort--The Doctor's Welcome--Drive to Torneå--TheWeather. 164 CHAPTER XV. INCIDENTS OF THE RETURN JOURNEY. Mild Weather!--Miraculous Scenery--Näsby--Swedish Honesty--Adventures at Luleå--Northern Sleds--Piteå--Accident atSkellefteå--The Norrland Climate--A damp Swede--Travellingin a Tempest--A Norrland Inn--Character of the People--TheirHouses. 177 CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION OF THE ARCTIC TRIP. Warmth and Daylight--Swedish Linen--The Northern Women--ProgressSouthward--Quarrel with a Postillion--A Model Village--RoughRoads--Scarcity of Snow--Arrival at Stockholm--Remarks on ArcticTravel--Scale of Temperature--Record of Cold. 187 CHAPTER XVII. LIFE IN STOCKHOLM. Stockholm--Its Position and Appearance--The Streets and Houses--Manner of Living--Swedish Diet--Stockholm in Spring--SwedishGymnastics--A Grotesque Spectacle--Results of Gymnastics--Ling'sSystem--The Swedish Language--Character of the Prose and Poetry--Songs--Life in Stockholm. 197 CHAPTER XVIII. MANNERS AND MORALS OF STOCKHOLM. Hospitality of the Swedes--Northern Frenchmen--Stockholm Manners--Dress--Conventionalism--Taking off the Hat--Courtesy of theSwedish--An Anecdote--King Oscar--The Royal Family--Tendency toDetraction--The King's Illness--Morals of Stockholm--IllegitimateBirths--Sham Morality--Causes of Immorality--Drunkenness--AnIncident. 210 CHAPTER XIX. JOURNEY TO GOTTENBURG AND COPENHAGEN. Appearance of Spring--Departure from Stockholm--The Gotha Canal--Vreta Kloster--Scenery of the Wener--European Ideas concerningAmerica--A Democratic Nobleman--The Gotha River--Gottenburg--TheGiant's Pots--The Cattegat--Elsinore--The Sound Dues--Copenhagenand its Inhabitants--Thorwaldsen--Interview with Hans ChristianAndersen--Goldschmidt--Prof. Rafn. 222 CHAPTER XX. RETURN TO THE NORTH. --CHRISTIANIA. Visit to Germany and England--The Steamer at Hull--The North Sea--Fellow-Passengers--Christiansand--The Coast of Norway--Arrivalat Christiania--Preparations for Travelling--The Carriole--Progressof Christiania--Beauty of its Environs. 235 CHAPTER XXI. INCIDENTS OF CARRIOLE TRAVEL. Disinterested Advice--Departure--Alarm--Descending the Hills--TheSkyds System--Krogkleven--The King's View--Country and CountryPeople--Summer Scenery--The Randsfjord--A Cow-Whale--The MiösenLake--More than we bargained for--Astonishing Kindness--The Lakefrom a Steamer. 242 CHAPTER XXII. GULDBRANDSDAL AND THE DOVRE FJELD. Lillehammer--A Sabbath Morning--A Picture of Dahi--Guldbrandsdal--Annoyances of Norwegian Travel--The Lougen River--Cataracts--TheStation at Viik--Sinclair's Defeat--Pass of the Rusten--The UpperValley--Scenery of the Dovre Fjeld--Solitude of the Mountains--Jerkin--Summit of the Fjeld--Nature in the North--Defile of theDriv--A Silent Country--Valley of the Orkla--Park Scenery--ACunning Hostess--Solidity of Norwegian Women. 254 CHAPTER XXIII. DRONTHEIM. --VOYAGE UP THE COAST OF NORWAY. Panorama of Drontheim--Its Streets and Houses--Quarters at theHotel--Protestant High Mass--Norwegian Steamers--Parting View of--Drontheim--The Namsen Fjord--Settlements on the Coast--The Rockof Torghätten--The Seven Sisters--Singular Coast Scenery--TheHorseman--Crossing the Arctic Circle--Coasting Craft--Bodö--AnArctic Sunset. 269 CHAPTER XXIV. THE LOFODEN ISLES. Habits of the Arctic Summer--The Lofoden Islands--Mosköe--TheMyth of the Maelström--The Lofoden Fishermen--Improvement inthe People--Lofoden Scenery--The Rasksund--Disappearance ofDaylight--Character of the Scenery--Tromsöe at Midnight. 281 CHAPTER XXV. FINMARK AND HAMMERFEST. Visit to the Lapps--Scenery of Tromsdal--Phenomena of the ArcticSummer--The Lapp _Gammes_--A Herd of Reindeer--The Midnight Sunand its Effect--Scenery of the Alten Fjord--Pastor Hvoslef--Mr. Thomas and his Home--Altengaard--A Polar Bishop--An ExcitedDiscussion--Whales--Appearance of Hammerfest--Fishy Quarters. 289 CHAPTER XXVI. THE MIDNIGHT SUN. Plans of Travellers--Ship for the Varanger Fjord--Scenery ofMageröe--Miraculous Provision for human Life--Fisheries on theCoast--The Porsanger Fjord--Coast Scenery--Sværholtklub--Rousingthe Sea Gulls--Picture of the Midnight Sun--Loss of a Night--TheChurch of the Lapps--Wonderful Rock-painting--Nordkyn. 300 CHAPTER XXVII. THE VARANGER FJORD--ARCTIC LIFE. The Tana Fjord--Another Midnight--Desolation--Arctic Life--TheVaranger Fjord--The Fort of Vardöhuus--Arrival at Vadsö--Summerthere--More of the Lapps--Climate and Delights of Living--RichFishing--Jolly young Englishmen--Daylight Life--Its Effects, physical and Moral--Trees of Hammerfest--An astronomical Monument. 310 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE RETURN TO DARKNESS--NORWEGIAN CHARACTER. Splendour of the Northern Coast Scenery--Growth of Vegetation--Government of the Lapps--Pastor Lamers and his Secession--Religion in the North--An intelligent Clergyman--Discussions onBoard--Starlight and Lamp-light--Character of the Norwegians--Their national Vanity--Jealousy of Sweden. 321 CHAPTER XXIX. DRONTHEIM AND BERGEN. Trouble at Drontheim--Valley of the Nid--The Lierfoss--Pictureof Christiansund--Molde and Romsdal--The Vikings and theirDescendants--The Rock of Hornelen--Rainy Bergen--A Group ofLepers--Norwegian Filth--Licentiousness--Picture of Bergen--ItsStreets--Drunkenness--Days of Sunshine--Home-sick for Hammerfest--The Museum--Delays and dear Charges. 330 CHAPTER XXX. A TRIP TO THE VÖRING-FOSS. Parting View of Bergen--Lovely Scenery--Interested Kindness--TheRoads of Norway--Uncomfortable Quarters--Voyage on the Osterfjord--Bolstadören--Swindling Postillions--Arrival at Vossevangen--Morning Scenery--Agriculture in Norway--Destruction of the Forests--Descent to Vasenden--A Captain on Leave--Crossing the Fjeld--TheShores of Ulvik--Hardanger Scenery--Angling and Anglers--PedarHalstensen--National Song of Norway--Sæbö--A stupendous Defile--Ascent of the Fjeld--Plateau of the Hardanger--The Vöring-Foss--Its Grandeur--A Sæter Hut--Wonderful Wine. 341 CHAPTER XXXI. SKETCHES FROM THE BERGENSTIFT. Peder's Embarrassment--His Drowning--The Landlady--Morning atUlvik--A Norwegian Girl--Female Ugliness--Return to Vossevangen--Indolence--Detention at Stalheim--Scenery of the Naerödal--Postillions--On the Gudvangen Fjord--The Sogne Fjord--Transparencyof the Water--The Boatmen. 359 CHAPTER XXXII. HALLINGDAL--THE COUNTRY-PEOPLE OF NORWAY. Roads to Christiania--Southern Sunshine--Saltenaaset--The Churchof Borgund--Top of the Fille Fjeld--Natives on Sunday--PeculiarFemale Costume--Scarcity of Milk and Water--The Peak of Saaten--ABreakfast at Ekre--Hallingdal--Wages of Labourers--Valley Scenery--How _Förbuds_ are sent--General Swindling--Character of theNorwegians for Honesty--Illustrations--Immorality--A "Cutty Sark"--Charms of Green. 370 CHAPTER XXXIII. TELLEMARK AND THE RIUKAN-FOSS. The Silver Mines of Kongsberg--Roads in Tellemark--Bargainingfor Horses--The Inn at Bolkesjö--Sleeping Admonitions--SmashingTravel--Tinoset--The Tind Lake--A Norwegian Farm-House--TheWestfjord-dal and its Scenery--Ole Torgensen's Daughter--TheValley--A Leper--Defile of the Maan Elv--Picture of the Riukan-Foss--Its Beauty--A Twilight View--Supper at Ole's--The Comprehensionof Man--A singular Ravine--Hitterdal--How respectable People live--The old Church--Return to Christiania. 383 CHAPTER XXXIV. NORWAY AND SWEDEN. Norwegian Honesty--The Country People--Illicit Connections--TheIcelandic Language--Professor Munck--The Storthing--The NorwegianConstitution--The Farmer-State--Conversation between a GermanAuthor and a Swedish Statesman--Gottenburg--A Fire--SwedishHonesty and Courtesy--The Falls of Trollhätten. 398 CHAPTER XXXV. A TRAMP THROUGH WERMELAND AND DALECARLIA. Our Route--Leaving Carlstad--The Scenery--Valley of the Klar Elv--Ohlsäter--Wedding Arches--Asplund--A Night Journey--Adventuresin search of a Bed--Entrance into Dalecarlia--The Farmers atTyngsjö--Journey through the Woods--The People at Westerdal--TheLandlord at Rågsveden--The Landlady--Dalecarlian Morality--ALäsare--The Postillion--Poverty--A Dalecarlian Boy--Reception atKettbo--Nocturnal Conversation--Little Pehr--The female Postillion--The Läsare in Dalecarlia--View of Mora Valley. 407 CHAPTER XXXVI. LAST DAYS IN THE NORTH. Mora Scenery--"The Parsonage of Mora"--The Magister--Peasantsfrom Upper Elfdal--Scenery of the Siljan--Hymns on Board--Opinionsof the Läsare--Their Increase--Conversation with the Peasants--Leksand--The Domprost Hvasser--Walk in the Garden--DalecarlianSongs--Rainy Travel--Fahlun--Journey to Upsala--The Cholera--TheMound of Odin--_Skål_ to the Gods--The End of Summer in Stockholm--Farewell to the North. 425 NORTHERN TRAVEL, ETC. CHAPTER I. A WINTER VOYAGE ON THE BALTIC. We went on board the little iron Swedish propeller, _Carl Johan_, atLübeck, on the morning of December 1, A. D. 1856, having previously takenour passage for Stockholm. What was our dismay, after climbing overhills of freight on deck, and creeping down a narrow companion-way, tofind the cabin stowed full of bales of wool and barrels of butter. Therewas a little pantry adjoining it, with a friendly stewardess therein, who, in answer to my inquiries, assured us that we would probably beplaced in a _hut_. After further search, I found the captain, who wassuperintending the loading of more freight, and who also stated that hewould put us into a hut. "Let me see the hut, then, " I demanded, and wewere a little relieved when we found it to be a state-room, containingtwo of the narrowest of bunks. There was another hut opposite, occupiedby two more passengers, all that the steamer could carry and all wehad, except a short deck-passenger, who disappeared at the commencementof the voyage, and was not seen again until its close. The day was clear and cold, the low hills around Lübeck were coveredwith snow, and the Trave was already frozen over. We left at noon, slowly breaking our way down the narrow and winding river, whichgradually widened and became clearer of ice as we approached the Baltic. When we reached Travemünde it was snowing fast, and a murky chaos beyondthe sandy bar concealed the Baltic. The town is a long row of housesfronting the water. There were few inhabitants to be seen, for thebathing guests had long since flown, and all watering places have afunereal air after the season is over. Our fellow-passenger, a jovialPole, insisted on going ashore to drink a last glass of Bavarian beerbefore leaving Germany; but the beverage had been so rarely called forthat it had grown sharp and sour, and we hurried back unsatisfied. A space about six feet square had been cleared out among the butter-kegsin the cabin, and we sat down to dinner by candle-light, at threeo'clock. Swedish customs already appeared, in a preliminary decanter oflemon-colored brandy, a thimbleful of which was taken with a piece ofbread and sausage, before the soup appeared. The taste of the liquor wassweet, unctuous and not agreeable. Our party consisted of the captain, the chief officer, who was his brother-in-law, the Pole, who was asecond-cousin of Kosciusko, and had a name consisting of eight consonantsand two vowels, a grave young Swede with a fresh Norse complexion, andour two selves. The steward, Hildebrand, and the silent stewardess, Marie, were our attendants and purveyors. The ship's officers were rather slowand opaque, and the Swede sublimely self-possessed and indifferent; butthe Pole, who had been condemned to death at Cracow, and afterwardsinvented cheap gas, was one of the jolliest fellows alive. His German wasfull of funny mistakes, but he rattled away with as much assurance as ifit had been his native tongue. Before dinner was over, we were allperfectly well acquainted with each other. Night had already set in on the Baltic; nothing was to be seen but snow;the deck was heaped with freight; the storm blew in our teeth; and thesteamer, deeply laden, moved slowly and labouriously; so we stretchedourselves on the narrow bunks in our hut, and preserved a delicateregard for our equilibrium, even in sleep. In the morning the steepcliffs of Möen, a Danish island, were visible on our left. We looked forRügen, the last stronghold of the worship of Odin in the Middle Ages, but a raw mist rolled down upon the sea, and left us advancing blindlyas before. The wind was strong and cold, blowing the vapory water-smokein long trails across the surface of the waves. It was not long, however, before some dim white gleams through the mist were pointed out as theshores of Sweden, and the _Carl Johan_ slackened her speed to a snail'space, snuffing at headland after headland, like a dog off the scent, inorder to find her way into Ystad. A lift of the fog favored us at last, and we ran into the little harbor. I walked the contracted hurricane deck at three o'clock, with the sunsetalready flushing the west, looked on the town and land, and thought ofmy friend Dr. Kane. The mercury had fallen to 16°, a foot of snowcovered the house-roofs, the low, undulating hills all wore the samemonotonous no-color, and the yellow-haired people on the pier werebuttoned up close, mittened and fur-capped. The captain telegraphed toCalmar, our next port, and received an answer that the sound was full ofice and the harbor frozen up. A custom-house officer, who took supperwith us on board, informed us of the loss of the steam-ship Umeå, whichwas cut through by the ice near Sundsvall, and sunk, drowning fifteenpersons--a pleasant prospect for our further voyage--and the Pole wouldhave willingly landed at Ystad if he could have found a conveyance toget beyond it. We had twelve tons of coal to take on board, and the workproceeded so slowly that we caught another snow-storm so thick andblinding that we dared not venture out of the harbor. On the third morning, nevertheless, we were again at sea, having passedBornholm, and were heading for the southern end of the Island of Oland. About noon, as we were sitting huddled around the cabin stove, thesteamer suddenly stopped. There was a hurried movement of feet overhead--acry--and we rushed on deck. One of the sailors was in the act of throwingoverboard a life buoy. "It is the Pole!" was our first exclamation. "No, no, " said Hildebrand, with a distressed face, "it is the cabin-boy"--asprightly, handsome fellow of fourteen. There he was struggling in theicy water, looking toward the steamer, which was every moment moredistant. Two men were in the little boat, which had just been run downfrom the davits, but it seemed an eternity until their oars were shipped, and they pulled away on their errand of life or death. We urged the mateto put the steamer about, but he passively refused. The boy still swam, but the boat was not yet half-way, and headed too much to the left. Therewas no tiller, and the men could only guess at their course. We guidedthem by signs, watching the boy's head, now a mere speck, seen atintervals under the lowering sky. He struggled gallantly; the boat drewnearer, and one of the men stood up and looked around. We watched withbreathless suspense for the reappearance of the brave young swimmer, butwe watched in vain. Poor boy! who can know what was the agony of thoseten minutes, while the icy waves gradually benumbed and dragged down theyoung life that struggled with such desperate energy to keep its place inthe world! The men sat down and rowed back, bringing only his cap, whichthey had found floating on the sea. "Ah!" said Hildebrand, with tears inhis eyes, "I did not want to take him this voyage, but his mother beggedme so hard that I could not refuse, and this is the end!" We had a melancholy party in the cabin that afternoon. The painfulimpression made by this catastrophe was heightened by the knowledge thatit might have been prevented. The steamer amidships was filled up to herrail with coal, and the boy was thrown overboard by a sudden lurch whilewalking upon it. Immediately afterwards, lines were rove along thestanchions, to prevent the same thing happening again. The few feet ofdeck upon which we could walk were slippery with ice, and we kept below, smoking gloomily and saying little. Another violent snow-storm came onfrom the north, but in the afternoon we caught sight of some rocks offCarlscrona, and made the light on Oland in the evening. The wind hadbeen blowing so freshly that our captain suspected Calmar Sound might beclear, and determined to try the passage. We felt our way slowly throughthe intricate sandbanks, in the midst of fog and snow, until aftermidnight, when only six miles from Calmar, we were stopped by fields ofdrift ice, and had to put back again. The fourth morning dawned cold and splendidly clear. When I went on deckwe were rounding the southern point of Oland, through long belts offloating ice. The low chalk cliffs were covered with snow, and lookedbleak and desolate enough. The wind now came out of the west, enablingus to carry the foresail, so that we made eight or nine knots, in spiteof our overloaded condition. Braisted and I walked the deck all day, enjoying the keen wind and clear, faint sunshine of the North. In theafternoon, however, it blew half a gale, with flurries of mingled rainand snow. The sea rose, and the steamer, lumbered as she was, could notbe steered on her course, but had to be "conned, " to keep off the strain. The hatches were closed, and an occasional sea broke over the bows. Wesat below in the dark huts; the Pole, leaning against the bulkhead, silently awaiting his fate, as he afterwards confessed. I had faithenough in the timidity of our captain, not to feel the least alarm--and, true enough, two hours had not elapsed before we lay-to under the lee ofthe northern end of Oland. The Pole then sat down, bathed from head tofoot in a cold sweat, and would have landed immediately, had it beenpossible. The Swede was as inexpressive as ever, with the same half-smileon his fair, serious face. I was glad to find that our captain did not intend to lose the wind, butwould start again in an hour or two. We had a quieter night than couldhave been anticipated, followed by a brilliant morning. Such goodprogress had been made that at sunrise the lighthouse on the rocks ofLandsort was visible, and the jagged masses of that archipelago ofcloven isles which extends all the way to Torneå, began to stud the sea. The water became smoother as we ran into the sound between Landsort andthe outer isles. A long line of bleak, black rocks, crusted with snow, stretched before us. Beside the lighthouse, at their southern extremity, there were two red frame-houses, and a telegraph station. A boat, mannedby eight hardy sailors, came off with a pilot, who informed us thatStockholm was closed with ice, and that the other steamers had beenobliged to stop at the little port of Dalarö, thirty miles distant. Sofor Dalarö we headed, threading the channels of the scattering islands, which gradually became higher and more picturesque, with clumps of darkfir crowning their snowy slopes. The midday sun hung low on the horizon, throwing a pale yellow light over the wild northern scenery; but therewas life in the cold air, and I did not ask for summer. We passed the deserted fortress of Dalarö, a square stone structure, which has long since outlived its purpose, on the summit of a rock inthe sound. Behind it, opened a quiet bay, held in a projecting arm ofthe mainland, near the extremity of which appeared our port--a villageof about fifty houses, scattered along the abrupt shore. The dark-redbuildings stood out distinctly against the white background; two steamersand half a dozen sailing crafts were moored below them; about as manyindividuals were moving quietly about, and for all the life and animationwe could see, we might have been in Kamtchatka. As our voyage terminated here, our first business was to find means ofgetting to Stockholm by land. Our fellow-passengers proposed that weshould join company, and engage five horses and three sleds for ourselvesand luggage. The Swede willingly undertook to negotiate for us, and setabout the work with his usual impassive semi-cheerfulness. The landlordof the only inn in the place promised to have everything ready by sixo'clock the next morning, and our captain, who was to go on the sameevening, took notices of our wants, to be served at the two interveningpost-stations on the road. We then visited the custom-house, a cabinabout ten feet square, and asked to have our luggage examined. "No, "answered the official, "we have no authority to examine anything; youmust wait until we send to Stockholm. " This was at least a new experience. We were greatly vexed and annoyed, but at length, by dint of explanationsand entreaties, prevailed upon the man to attempt an examination. Ourtrunks were brought ashore, and if ever a man did his duty conscientiously, it was this same Swedish official. Every article was taken out andseparately inspected, with an honest patience which I could not butadmire. Nothing was found contraband, however; we had the pleasure ofrepacking, and were then pulled back to the _Carl Johan_ in a profusesweat, despite the intense cold. CHAPTER II. STOCKHOLM. --PREPARATIONS FOR THE NORTH. On the following morning we arose at five, went ashore in the darkness, and after waiting an hour, succeeded in getting our teams together. Thehorses were small, but spirited, the sleds rudely put together, butstrong, and not uncomfortable, and the drivers, peasants of theneighborhood, patient, and good-humoured. Climbing the steep bank, wewere out of the village in two minutes, crossed an open common, andentered the forests of fir and pine. The sleighing was superb, and ourlittle nags carried us merrily along, at the usual travelling rate ofone Swedish mile (nearly seven English) per hour. Enveloped from head tofoot in our fur robes, we did not feel the sharp air, and in comparingour sensations, decided that the temperature was about 20°. What was oursurprise, on reaching the post-station, at learning that it was actually2° below zero! Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the darkness decreased, but the morningwas cloudy, and there was little appearance of daybreak before nineo'clock. In the early twilight we were startled by the appearance of aball of meteoric fire, nearly as large as the moon, and of a soft whitelustre, which moved in a horizontal line from east to west, anddisappeared without a sound. I was charmed by the forest scenery throughwhich we passed. The pine, spruce, and fir trees, of the greatestvariety of form, were completely coated with frozen snow, and stood asimmovable as forests of bronze incrusted with silver. The delicate twigsof the weeping birch resembled sprays of crystal, of a thousand airy andexquisite patterns. There was no wind, except in the open glades betweenthe woods, where the frozen lakes spread out like meadow intervals. Aswe approached the first station there were signs of cultivation--fieldsinclosed with stake fences, low red houses, low barns, and scantypatches of garden land. We occasionally met peasants with theirsleds--hardy, red-faced fellows, and women solid enough to outweightheir bulk in pig-iron. The post-station was a cottage in the little hamlet of Berga. We droveinto the yard, and while sleds and horses were being changed, partook ofsome boiled milk and tough rye-bread, the only things to be had, butboth good of their kind. The travellers' room was carpeted andcomfortable, and the people seemed poor only because of their few wants. Our new sleds were worse than the former, and so were our horses, but wecame to the second station in time, and found we must make still anotherarrangement. The luggage was sent ahead on a large sled, while each pairof us, seated in a one horse cutter, followed after it, drivingourselves. Swedish horses are stopped by a whistle, and encouraged by asmacking of the lips, which I found impossible to learn at once, andthey considerately gave us no whips. We had now a broad, beaten road, and the many teams we met and passed gave evidence of our approach toStockholm. The country, too, gently undulating all the way, was morethickly settled, and appeared to be under tolerable cultivation. About one in the afternoon, we climbed a rising slope, and from its browlooked down upon Stockholm. The sky was dark-gray and lowering; thehills were covered with snow, and the roofs of the city resembled amultitude of tents, out of which rose half a dozen dark spires. Oneither side were arms of the Mälar Lake--white, frozen plains. Snow wasalready in the air, and presently we looked through a screen of heavyflakes on the dark, weird, wintry picture. The impression was perfect ofits kind, and I shall not soon forget it. We had passed through the southern suburb, and were descending to thelake, when one of our shafts snapped off. Resigning the cutter to thecharge of a stout maiden, who acted as postillion, Braisted and Iclimbed upon the luggage, and in this wise, shaggy with snowy fur, passed through the city, before the House of Nobles and the King'sPalace, and over the Northern Bridge, and around the northern suburb, and I know not where else, to the great astonishment of everybody wemet, until our stupid driver found out where he was to go. Then we tookleave of the Pole, who had engaged horses to Norrköping, and lookedutterly disconsolate at parting; but the grave Swede showed his kindheart at last, for--neglecting his home, from which he had been absentseven years--he accompanied us to an hotel, engaged rooms, and saw ussafely housed. We remained in Stockholm a week, engaged in making preparations for ourjourney to the North. During this time we were very comfortablyquartered in Kahn's Hotel, the only one in the capital where one can getboth rooms and meals. The weather changed so entirely, as completely todestroy our first impressions, and make the North, which we wereseeking, once more as distant as when we left Germany. The day after ourarrival a thaw set in, which cleared away every particle of snow andice, opened the harbor, freed the Mälar Lake, and gave the white hillsaround the city their autumnal colors of brown and dark-green. A densefog obscured the brief daylight, the air was close, damp, and oppressive, everybody coughed and snuffled, and the air-tight rooms, so comfortablein cold weather, became insufferable. My blood stagnated, my spiritsdescended as the mercury rose, and I grew all impatience to have zero anda beaten snow-track again. We had more difficulty in preparing for this journey than Ianticipated--not so much in the way of procuring the necessary articles, as the necessary information on the subject. I was not able to find aman who had made the journey in winter, or who could tell me what toexpect, and what to do. The mention of my plan excited very generalsurprise, but the people were too polished and courteous to say outrightthat I was a fool, though I don't doubt that many of them thought so. Even the maps are only minute enough for the traveller as far as Torneå, and the only special maps of Lapland I could get dated from 1803. TheGovernment, it is true, has commenced the publication of a veryadmirable map of the kingdom, in provinces, but these do not as yetextend beyond Jemteland, about Lat. 63° north. Neither is there anywork to be had, except some botanical and geological publications, whichof course contain but little practical information. The English andGerman Handbooks for Sweden are next to useless, north of Stockholm. Theprincipal assurances were, that we should suffer greatly from cold, thatwe should take along a supply of provisions, for nothing was to be had, and that we must expect to endure hardships and privations of all kinds. This prospect was not at all alarming, for I remembered that I had heardmuch worse accounts of Ethiopia while making similar preparations inCairo, and have learned that all such bugbears cease to exist when theyare boldly faced. Our outfit, therefore, was restricted to some coffee, sugar, salt, gunpowder, lucifer-matches, lead, shot and slugs, four bottles of cognacfor cases of extremity, a sword, a butcher-knife, hammer, screw-driver, nails, rope and twine, all contained in a box about eighteen inchessquare. A single valise held our stock of clothing, books, writing anddrawing materials, and each of us carried, in addition, a double-barrelledmusket. We made negotiations for the purchase of a handsome Norrlandsleigh (numbers of which come to Stockholm, at this season, laden withwild-fowl), but the thaw prevented our making a bargain. The preparationof the requisite funds, however, was a work of some time. In this I wasassisted by Mr. Moström, an excellent valet-de-place, whom I herebyrecommend to all travellers. When, after three or four days' labour anddiplomacy, he brought me the money, I thought I had suddenly come inpossession of an immense fortune. There were hundreds of bank-notes, andthousands of silver pieces of all sizes--Swedish paper, silver and copper, Norwegian notes and dollars, Danish marks, and Russian gold, roubles andcopecks. The value belied the quantity, and the vast pile melted away sofast that I was soon relieved of my pleasant delusion. Our equipment should have been made in Germany, for, singularly enough, Stockholm is not half so well provided with furs and articles of winterclothing as Hamburg or Leipsic. Besides, everything is about fifty percent dearer here. We were already provided with ample fur robes, I withone of gray bear-skin, and Braisted with yellow fox. To these we addedcaps of sea-otter, mittens of dog-skin, lined with the fur of the Arctichare, knitted devil's caps, woollen sashes of great length for windingaround the body, and, after long search, leather Russian boots linedwith sheepskin and reaching half-way up the thigh. When rigged out inthis costume, my diameter was about equal to half my height, and I foundlocomotion rather cumbrous; while Braisted, whose stature is some seveninches shorter, waddled along like an animated cotton-bale. Everything being at last arranged, so far as our limited informationmade it possible, for a two months' journey, we engaged places in adiligence which runs as far as Gefle, 120 miles north of Stockholm. There we hoped to find snow and a colder climate. One of my first stepshad been to engage a Swedish teacher, and by dint of taking doublelessons every day, I flattered myself that I had made sufficient progressin the language to travel without an interpreter--the most inconvenientand expensive of persons. To be sure, a week is very little for a newlanguage, but to one who speaks English and German, Swedish is alreadyhalf acquired. CHAPTER III. FIRST EXPERIENCES OF NORTHERN TRAVEL. The diligence was a compact little vehicle, carrying four persons, butwe two were so burdened with our guns, sword, money-bag, field-glass, over-boots and two-fathom-long sashes, that we found the space allottedto us small enough. We started at eight o'clock, and had not gone ahundred yards before we discovered that the most important part of ouroutfit--the maps--had been left behind. It was too late to return, andwe were obliged to content ourselves with the hope of supplying them atUpsala or Gefle. We rolled by twilight through the Northern suburb. The morning was sharpand cold, and the roads, which had been muddy and cut up the day before, were frozen terribly hard and rough. Our fellow-passengers were twoSwedes, an unprepossessing young fellow who spoke a few words ofEnglish, and a silent old gentleman; we did not derive much advantagefrom their society, and I busied myself with observing the countrythrough which we passed. A mile or two, past handsome country-seats andsome cemeteries, brought us into the region of forests. The pines weretall and picturesque in their forms, and the grassy meadows betweenthem, entirely clear of snow, were wonderfully green for the season. During the first stage we passed some inlets of the Baltic, highlypicturesque with their irregular wooded shores. They had all been frozenover during the night. We were surprised to see, on a southern hill-side, four peasants at work ploughing. How they got their shares through thefrozen sod, unless the soil was remarkably dry and sandy, was more than Icould imagine. We noticed occasionally a large manor-house, with itsdependent out-buildings, and its avenue of clipped beeches or lindens, looking grand and luxurious in the midst of the cold dark fields. Hereand there were patches of wheat, which the early snow had kept green, andthe grass in the damp hollows was still bright, yet it was the 15th ofDecember, and we were almost in lat. 60° N. The houses were mostly one-story wooden cottages, of a dull red color, with red roofs. In connection with the black-green of the pine and firwoods they gave the country a singularly sombre aspect. There was littlevariation in the scenery all the way to Upsala. In some places, the soilappeared to be rich and under good cultivation; here the red villageswere more frequent, and squat church-towers showed themselves in thedistance. In other places, we had but the rough hills, or rather knobsof gray gneiss, whose masses were covered with yellow moss, and thestraggling fir forests. We met but few country teams on the road; nobodywas to be seen about the houses, and the land seemed to be asleep ordesolated. Even at noon, when the sun came out fairly, he was low on thehorizon, and gave but an eclipsed light, which was more cheerless thancomplete darkness. The sun set about three o'clock, but we had a long, splendid twilight, aflush of orange, rose and amber-green, worthy of a Mediterranean heaven. Two hours afterwards, the lights of Upsala appeared, and we drove underthe imposing front of the old palace, through clean streets, over theUpsala River, and finally stopped at the door of a courtyard. Here wewere instantly hailed by some young fellows, who inquired if we did notwant rooms. The place did not appear to be an inn, but as the silent oldgentleman got out and went in, I judged it best to follow his example, and the diligence drove off with our baggage. We were right, after all:a rosy, handsome, good-humored landlady appeared, promised to furnish uswith beds and a supper, to wake us betimes, and give us coffee beforeleaving. The old gentleman kindly put on his coat and accompanied us to abookstore on the public square, where I found Akrell's map of NorthernSweden, and thus partially replaced our loss. He sat awhile in our roomtrying to converse, but I made little headway. On learning that we werebound for Torneå, he asked: "Are you going to buy lumber?" "No, " Ianswered; "we are merely going to see the country. " He laughed long andheartily at such an absurd idea, got up in a hurry, and went to bedwithout saying another word. We had a supper of various kinds ofsausage, tough rye bread, and a bowl of milk, followed by excellentbeds--a thing which you are sure to find everywhere in Sweden. We drove off again at half-past six in the morning moon light, with atemperature of zero. Two or three miles from the town we passed themounds of old Upsala, the graves of Odin, Thor and Freja, rising boldlyagainst the first glimmerings of daylight. The landscape was broad, darkand silent, the woods and fields confusedly blended together, and onlythe sepulchres of the ancient gods broke the level line of the horizon. I could readily have believed in them at that hour. Passing over the broad rich plain of Upsala, we entered a gentlyundulating country, richer and better cultivated than the district wehad traversed the previous day. It was splendidly wooded with thick firforests, floored with bright green moss. Some of the views toward thenorth and west were really fine from their extent, though seen in thefaded light and long shadows of the low northern sun. In the afternoon, we passed a large white church, with four little towers at the corners, standing in the midst of a village of low red stables, in which thecountry people shelter their horses while attending service. There musthave been fifty or sixty of these buildings, arranged in regularstreets. In most of the Swedish country churches, the belfry standsapart, a squat, square tower, painted red, with a black upper story, andis sometimes larger than the church itself. The houses of the peasantsare veritable western shanties, except in color and compactness. No windfinds a cranny to enter, and the roofs of thick thatch, kept down bylong, horizontal poles, have an air of warmth and comfort. The stablesare banked with earth up to the hay-loft, and the cattle enter theirsubterranean stalls through sloping doorways like those of the Egyptiantombs. Notwithstanding we made good progress through the day, it was dark longbefore we reached the bridge over the Dal Elv, and of the famouscascades we saw only a sloping white glimmer, between dark masses offorest, and heard the noise of the broken waters. At Elfkarleby we wereallowed twenty minutes for dinner--boiled salmon and beefsteak, bothbad. I slept after this, until aroused by the old Swede, as we enteredGefle. We drove across a broad bridge, looked over vessels frozen intothe inlet of the Gulf, passed a large public square, and entered theyard of the diligence office. A boy in waiting conducted us to a privatehouse, where furnished rooms were to be had, and here we obtained tea, comfortable beds, and the attendance of a rosy servant-girl, who spokeintelligible Swedish. My first care the next morning, was to engage horses and send off my_förbud_ papers. We were now to travel by "_skjuts_" (pronounced shoos), or post, taking new horses at each station on the road. The _förbud_tickets are simply orders for horses to be ready at an appointed time, and are sent in advance to all the stations on the road, either by mailor by a special messenger. Without this precaution, I was told, we mightbe subjected to considerable delay. This mode of travelling is peculiarto Sweden and Norway. It has been in existence for three or fourcenturies, and though gradually improved and systematized with the lapseof time, it is still sufficiently complex and inconvenient to atraveller coming from the railroad world. Professor Retzius had referred me to the botanist Hartman, in case ofneed, but I determined to commence by helping myself. I had a littledifficulty at first: the people are unused to speaking with foreigners, and if you ask them to talk slowly, they invariably rattle away twice asfast as before. I went into a variety shop on the public square, andasked where I could engage horses for Sundsvall. After making myselfunderstood, as I supposed, the clerk handed me some new bridles. By dintof blundering, I gradually circumscribed the range of my inquiries, andfinally came to a focus at the right place. Having ordered horses at sixthe next morning, and despatched the _förbud_ tickets by the afternoon'smail, I felt that I had made a good beginning, and we set out to makethe tour of Gefle. This is a town of eight or ten thousand inhabitants, with a considerableshipping interest, and a naval school. It is a pretty place, well built, and with a neat, substantial air. The houses are mostly two storieshigh, white, and with spacious courts in the rear. The country around islow but rolling, and finely clothed with dark forests of fir and pine. It was a superb day--gloriously clear, with a south wind, bracing, andnot too cold, and a soft, pale lustre from the cloudless sun. But such aday! Sunrise melting into sunset without a noon--a long morning twilight, a low, slant sun, shining on the housetops for an hour or so, and theevening twilight at three in the afternoon. Nothing seemed real in thisstrange, dying light--nothing but my ignorance of Swedish, whenever Itried to talk. In the afternoon, we called on the Magister Hartman, whom we foundporing over his plants. He spoke English tolerably, and having made ajourney through Lapland from Torneå to the Lyngen Fjord, was able togive us some information about the country. He encouraged us in thebelief that we should find the journey more rapid and easy in winterthan in summer. He said the Swedes feared the North and few of themever made a winter journey thither, but nothing could stop the Americansand the English from going anywhere. He also comforted us with theassurance that we should find snow only six Swedish (forty English)miles further north. Lat. 60° 35' N. , the 17th of December, and no snowyet! In the streets, we met an organ-grinder playing the Marseillaise. There was no mistaking the jet-black hair, the golden complexion and thebrilliant eyes of the player, "_Siete Italiano?_" I asked. "_Sicuro!_"he answered, joyously: "_e lei anche?_" "Ah, " he said, in answer to myquestions, "_io non amo questo paese_; _è freddo ed oscuro_; _non sigagna niente_--_ma in Italia si vive_. " My friend Ziegler had alreadyassured me: "One should see the North, but not _after_ the South. " Well, we shall see; but I confess that twenty degrees below zero would havechilled me less than the sight of that Italian. We were at the inn punctually at six in the morning, but our horses werenot ready. The _hållkarl_, or ostler, after hearing my remonstrances, went on splitting wood, and, as I did not know enough of Swedish toscold with any profit, I was obliged to remain wrathful and silent. Heinsisted on my writing something (I could not understand what) in thepost-book, so I copied the affidavit of a preceding traveller and signedmy name to it, which seemed to answer the purpose. After more than halfan hour, two rough two-wheeled carts were gotten ready, and the farmersto whom they belonged, packed themselves and our luggage into one, leaving us to drive the other. We mounted, rolled ourselves in our furs, thrust our feet into the hay, and rattled out of Gefle in the frostymoonlight. Such was our first experience of travelling by _skjuts_. The road went northward, into dark forests, over the same undulating, yet monotonous country as before. The ground was rough and hard, and ourprogress slow, so that we did not reach the end of the first station (10miles) until nine o'clock. As we drove into the post-house, three othertravellers, who had the start of us, and consequently the first right tohorses, drove away. I was dismayed to find that my _förbud_ had not beenreceived, but the ostler informed me that by paying twelve skillingsextra I could have horses at once. While the new carts were gettingready, the postman, wrapped in wolf-skin, and with a face reddened bythe wind, came up, and handed out my _förbud_ ticket. Such was our firstexperience of _förbud_. On the next station, the peasant who was ahead with our luggage left themain road and took a rough track through the woods. Presently we came toa large inlet of the Bothnian gulf, frozen solid from shore to shore, and upon this we boldly struck out. The ice was nearly a foot thick, andas solid as marble. So we drove for at least four miles, and finallycame to land on the opposite side, near a sawmill. At the nextpost-house we found our predecessors just setting off again in sleds;the landlord informed us that he had only received my _förbud_ an hourprevious, and, according to law was allowed three hours to get ready hissecond instalment of horses, the first being exhausted. There was nohelp for it: we therefore comforted ourselves with breakfast. At oneo'clock we set out again in low Norrland sleds, but there was littlesnow at first, and we were obliged to walk the first few miles. Thestation was a long one (twenty English miles), and our horses not themost promising. Coming upon solid snow at last, we travelled rathermore swiftly, but with more risk. The sleds, although so low, rest uponnarrow runners, and the shafts are attached by a hook, upon which theyturn in all directions, so that the sled sways from side to side, entirely independent of them. In going off the main road to get a littlemore snow on a side track, I discovered this fact by overturning thesled, and pitching Braisted and myself out on our heads. There werelakes on either side, and we made many miles on the hard ice, whichsplit with a dull sound under us. Long after dark, we reached the nextstation, Stråtjära, and found our horses in readiness. We started again, by the gleam of a flashing aurora, going through forests and fields inthe uncertain light, blindly following our leader, Braisted and Idriving by turns, and already much fatigued. After a long time, wedescended a steep hill, to the Ljusne River. The water foamed andthundered under the bridge, and I could barely see that it fell in aseries of rapids over the rocks. At Mo Myskie, which we reached at eight o'clock, our horses had beenready four hours, which gave us a dollar banco _väntapenningar_ (waitingmoney) to pay. The landlord, a sturdy, jolly fellow, with grizzly hairand a prosperous abdomen, asked if we were French, and I addressed himin that language. He answered in English on finding that we wereAmericans. On his saying that he had learned English in Tripoli, Iaddressed him in Arabic. His eyes flashed, he burst into a roaring laughof the profoundest delight, and at once answered in the majesticgutturals of the Orient. "_Allah akhbar!_" he cried; "I have beenwaiting twenty years for some one to speak to me in Arabic, and you arethe first!" He afterwards changed to Italian, which he spoke perfectlywell, and preferred to any foreign language. We were detained half anhour by his delight, and went off forgetting to pay for a bottle ofbeer, the price of which I sent back by the _skjutsbonde_, orpostillion. This _skjutsbonde_ was a stupid fellow, who took us a long, circuitousroad, in order to save time. We hurried along in the darkness, constantly crying out "_Kör på!_" (Drive on!) and narrowly missing ahundred overturns. It was eleven at night before we reached the inn atKungsgården, where, fortunately, the people were awake, and the pleasantold landlady soon had our horses ready. We had yet sixteen English milesto Bro, our lodging-place, where we should have arrived by eighto'clock. I hardly know how to describe the journey. We were half asleep, tired out, nearly frozen, (mercury below zero) and dashed along athaphazard, through vast dark forests, up hill and down, following thesleepy boy who drove ahead with our baggage. A dozen times the sled, swaying from side to side like a pendulum, tilted, hung in suspense asecond, and then righted itself again. The boy fell back on the hay andslept, until Braisted, creeping up behind, startled him with terrificyells in his ears. Away then dashed the horse, down steep declivities, across open, cultivated valleys, and into the woods again. Aftermidnight the moon rose, and the cold was intenser than ever. The boyhaving fallen asleep again, the horse took advantage of it to run off atfull speed, we following at the same rate, sometimes losing sight of himand uncertain of our way, until, after a chase of a few miles, we foundthe boy getting his reins out from under the runners. Finally, after twoin the morning, we reached Bro. Here we had ordered a warm room, beds and supper, by _förbud_, but foundneither. A sleepy, stupid girl, who had just got up to wait on a captainwho had arrived before us and was going on, told us there was nothing tobe had. "We _must_ eat, if we have to eat _you_, " I said, savagely, forwe were chilled through and fierce with hunger; but I might as well havetried to hurry the Venus de Medici. At last we got some cold sausage, afire, and two couches, on which we lay down without undressing, andslept. I had scarcely closed my eyes, it seemed, when the girl, who wasto call us at half-past five o'clock, came into the room. "Is ithalf-past five?" I asked. "Oh, yes, " she coolly answered, "it's muchmore. " We were obliged to hurry off at once to avoid paying so muchwaiting money. At sunrise we passed Hudiksvall, a pretty town at the head of a deepbay, in which several vessels were frozen up for the winter. There weresome handsome country houses in the vicinity, better cultivation, moretaste in building, and a few apple and cherry orchards. The mercury wasstill at zero, but we suffered less from the cold than the day previous, and began to enjoy our mode of travel. The horses were ready at all thestations on our arrival, and we were not delayed in changing. There wasnow plenty of snow, and the roads were splendid--the country undulating, with beautiful, deep valleys, separated by high, wooded hills, and risingto bold ridges in the interior. The houses were larger and better than wehad yet seen--so were the people--and there was a general air of progressand well-doing. In fact, both country and population improved inappearance as we went northward. The night set in very dark and cold, threatening snow. We had anelephant of a horse, which kicked up his heels and frisked like anawkward bull-pup, dashed down the hills like an avalanche, and carriedus forward at a rapid rate. We coiled ourselves up in the hay, keptwarm, and trusted our safety to Providence, for it was impossible to seethe road, and we could barely distinguish the other sled, a dark speckbefore us. The old horse soon exhausted his enthusiasm. Braisted lostthe whip, and the zealous boy ahead stopped every now and then to hurryus on. The aurora gleamed but faintly through the clouds; we were nearlyovercome with sleep and fatigue, but took turns in arousing and amusingeach other. The sled vibrated continually from side to side, and finallywent over, spilling ourselves and our guns into a snow-bank. The horsestopped and waited for us, and then went on until the shafts came off. Toward ten o'clock, the lights of Sundsvall appeared, and we soonafterwards drove into the yard of the inn, having made one hundred andfifty-five miles in two days. We were wretchedly tired, and hungry asbears, but found room in an adjoining house, and succeeded in getting asupper of reindeer steak. I fell asleep in my chair, before my pipe washalf-finished, and awoke the next morning to a sense of real fatigue. Ihad had enough of travelling by _förbud_. CHAPTER IV. A SLEIGH RIDE THROUGH NORRLAND. Sundsvall is a pretty little town of two or three thousand inhabitants, situated at the head of a broad and magnificent bay. It is the easternterminus of the only post-road across the mountains to Trondhjem(Drontheim) in Norway, which passes through the extensive province ofJemteland. It is, consequently, a lively and bustling place, and has aconsiderable coasting trade. The day after our arrival was market-day, and hundreds of the Norrlanders thronged the streets and public square. They were all fresh, strong, coarse, honest, healthy people--the menwith long yellow hair, large noses and blue eyes, the women with therosiest of checks and the fullest development of body and limb. Many ofthe latter wore basques or jackets of sheepskin with the wool inside, striped petticoats and bright red stockings. The men were dressed inshaggy sheepskin coats, or garments of reindeer skin, with the hairoutward. There was a vast collection of low Norrland sleds, laden withbutter, cheese, hay, and wild game, and drawn by the rough and toughlittle horses of the country. Here was still plenty of life andanimation, although we were already so far north that the sun did notshine upon Sundsvall the whole day, being hidden by a low hill to thesouth. The snowy ridges on the north, however, wore a bright roseateblush from his rays, from ten until two. We called upon a merchant of the place, to whom I had a letter ofintroduction. He was almost the only man I met before undertaking thejourney, who encouraged me to push on. "The people in Stockholm, " saidhe, "know nothing about Northern Sweden. " He advised me to give uptravelling by _förbud_, to purchase a couple of sleds, and take ourchance of finding horses: we would have no trouble in making from fortyto fifty English miles per day. On returning to the inn, I made thelandlord understand what we wanted, but could not understand him inreturn. At this juncture came in a handsome fellow; with a cosmopolitanair, whom Braisted recognised, by certain invisible signs, as the mateof a ship, and who explained the matter in very good English. Ipurchased two plain but light and strongly made sleds for 50 _rigs_(about $14), which seemed very cheap, but I afterwards learned that Ipaid much more than the current price. On repacking our effects, we found that everything liquid wasfrozen--even a camphorated mixture, which had been carefully wrapped inflannel. The cold, therefore, must have been much more severe than wesupposed. Our supplies, also, were considerably damaged--the lanternbroken, a powder-flask cracked, and the salt, shot, nails, wadding, &c. , mixed together in beautiful confusion. Everything was stowed in one ofthe sleds, which was driven by the postilion; the other contained onlyour two selves. We were off the next morning, as the first streaks ofdawn appeared in the sky. The roads about Sundsvall were very much cutup, and even before getting out of the town we were pitched over headand ears into a snow-bank. We climbed slowly up and darted headlong down the ridges which descendfrom the west toward the Bothnian Gulf, dividing its tributary rivers;and toward sunrise, came to a broad bay, completely frozen over andturned into a snowy plain. With some difficulty the _skjutsbonde_ mademe understand that a shorter road led across the ice to the secondpost-station, Fjäl, avoiding one change of horses. The way was roughenough at first, over heaped blocks of ice, but became smoother wherethe wind had full sweep, and had cleared the water before it froze. Ourroad was marked out by a double row of young fir-trees, planted in theice. The bay was completely land-locked, embraced by a bold sweep ofwooded hills, with rich, populous valleys between. Before us, three orfour miles across, lay the little port of Wifsta-warf, where severalvessels--among them a ship of three or four hundred tuns--were frozen infor the winter. We crossed, ascended a long hill, and drove on throughfir woods to Fjäl, a little hamlet with a large inn. Here we gotbreakfast; and though it may be in bad taste to speak of what one eats, the breakfast was in such good taste that I cannot pass over it withoutlingering to enjoy, in memory, its wonderful aroma. Besides, if it betrue, as some shockingly gross persons assert, that the belly is a moreimportant district of the human economy than the brain, a good mealdeserves chronicling no less than an exalted impression. Certain it is, that strong digestive are to be preferred to strong thinkingpowers--better live unknown than die of dyspepsia. This was our firstcountry meal in Norrland, of whose fare the Stockholmers have a horror, yet that stately capital never furnished a better. We had beefsteak andonions, delicious blood-puddings, the tenderest of pancakes (no_omelette soufflée_ could be more fragile), with ruby raspberry jam, anda bottle of genuine English porter. If you think the bill of fare tooheavy and solid, take a drive of fifteen miles in the regions of Zero, and then let your delicate stomach decide. In a picturesque dell near Fjäl we crossed the rapid Indal River, whichcomes down from the mountains of Norway. The country was wild andbroken, with occasional superb views over frozen arms of the Gulf, andthe deep rich valleys stretching inland. Leaving Hernösand, the capitalof the province, a few miles to our right, we kept the main northernroad, slowly advancing from station to station with old and tiredhorses. There was a snow-storm in the afternoon, after which the skycame out splendidly clear, and gorgeous with the long northern twilight. In the silence of the hour and the deepening shadows of the forestthrough which we drove, it was startling to hear, all at once the soundof voices singing a solemn hymn. My first idea was, that some of thosefanatical Dissenters of Norrland who meet, as once the Scotch Covenanters, among the hills, were having a refreshing winter meeting in the woods;but on proceeding further we found that the choristers were a company ofpeasants returning from market with their empty sleds. It was already dark at four o'clock, and our last horses were so slowthat the postilion, a handsome, lively boy, whose pride was a littletouched by my remonstrances, failed, in spite of all his efforts, tobring us to the station before seven. We stopped at Weda, on theAngermann River, the largest stream in Northern Sweden. Angermannland, the country which it drains, is said to be a very wild and beautifulregion, where some traces of the old, original Asiatic type whichpeopled Scandinavia are yet to be traced in the features of its secludedpopulation. At Weda, we found excellent quarters. A neat, quiet, old-fashioned little servant-girl, of twelve or fourteen, took charge ofus, and attended to all our wants with the greatest assiduity. We had agood supper, a small but neat room, clean beds, and coffee in themorning, beside a plentiful provision for breakfast on the way, for asum equal to seventy-five cents. We left at half-past seven, the waning moon hanging on the horizon, andthe first almost imperceptible signs of the morning twilight in theeast. The Angermann River which is here a mile broad, was frozen, andour road led directly across its surface. The wind blew down it, acrossthe snow-covered ice, making our faces tingle with premonitory signs offreezing, as the mercury was a little below zero. My hands were chilledinside the fur mittens, and I was obliged to rub my nose frequently, toprevent it from being nipped. The day was raw and chilly, and thetemperature rose very little, although the hills occasionally shelteredus from the wind. The scenery, also, grew darker and wilder as weadvanced. The fir-trees were shorter and stunted, and of a darkgreenish-brown, which at a little distance appeared completely black. Nothing could exceed the bleak, inhospitable character of theselandscapes. The inlets of the Bothnian Gulf were hard, snow-coveredplains, inclosed by bold, rugged headlands, covered with ink-blackforests. The more distant ridges faded into a dull indigo hue, fleckedwith patches of ghastly white, under the lowering, sullen, short-liveddaylight. Our road was much rougher than hitherto. We climbed long ridges, only todescend by as steep declivities on the northern side, to cross the bedof an inland stream, and then ascend again. The valleys, however, wereinhabited and apparently well cultivated, for the houses were large andcomfortable, and the people had a thrifty, prosperous and satisfied air. Beside the farmhouses were immense racks, twenty feet high, for thepurpose of drying flax and grain, and at the stations the people offeredfor sale very fine and beautiful linen of their own manufacture. This isthe staple production of Norrland, where the short summers arefrequently insufficient to mature the grain crops. The inns were allcomfortable buildings, with very fair accommodations for travellers. Wehad bad luck with horses this day, however, two or three travellershaving been in advance and had the pick. On one stage our baggage-sledwas driven by a _poike_ of not more than ten years old--a darlingfellow, with a face as round, fresh and sweet as a damask rose, thebluest of eyes, and a cloud of silky golden hair. His successor was atall, lazy lout, who stopped so frequently to talk with the drivers ofsleds behind us, that we lost all patience, drove past and pushed aheadin the darkness, trusting our horse to find the way. His horse followed, leaving him in the lurch, and we gave him a long-winded chase asternbefore we allowed him to overtake us. This so exasperated him that wehad no trouble the rest of the way. _Mem. _--If you wish to travel withspeed, make your postilion angry. At Hörnäs they gave us a supper of ale and cold pig's feet, admirablebeds, and were only deficient in the matter of water for washing. Weawoke with headaches, on account of gas from the tight Russian stove. The temperature, at starting, was 22° below zero--colder than either ofus had ever before known. We were a little curious, at first, to knowhow we should endure it, but, to our delight, found ourselves quite warmand comfortable. The air was still, dry, and delicious to inhale. Mynose occasionally required friction, and my beard and moustache became asolid mass of ice, frozen together so that I could scarcely open mymouth, and firmly fastened to my fur collar. We travelled forty-ninemiles, and were twelve hours on the way, yet felt no inconvenience fromthe temperature. By this time it was almost wholly a journey by night, dawn and twilight, for full day there was none. The sun rose at ten and set at two. Weskimmed along, over the black, fir-clothed hills, and across thepleasant little valleys, in the long, gray, slowly-gathering daybreak:then, heavy snow-clouds hid half the brief day, and the long, long, dusky evening glow settled into night. The sleighing was superb, thesnow pure as ivory, hard as marble, and beautifully crisp and smooth. Our sleds glided over it without effort, the runners making music asthey flew. With every day the country grew wilder, blacker and morerugged, with no change in the general character of the scenery. In theafternoon we passed the frontier of Norrland, and entered the provinceof West Bothnia. There are fewer horses at the stations, as we go north, but also fewer travellers, and we were not often detained. Thus far, wehad no difficulty: my scanty stock of Swedish went a great way, and Ibegan to understand with more facility, even the broad Norrland dialect. The people of this region are noble specimens of the physical man--tall, broad-shouldered, large-limbed, ruddy and powerful; and they are matedwith women who, I venture to say, do not even suspect the existence of anervous system. The natural consequences of such health are: moralityand honesty--to say nothing of the quantities of rosy and robustchildren which bless every household. If health and virtue cannot securehappiness, nothing can, and these Norrlanders appear to be a thoroughlyhappy and contented race. We had occasional reason to complain of theirslowness; but, then, why should they be fast? It is rather we who shouldmoderate our speed. Braisted, however, did not accept such a philosophy. "Charles XII. Was the boy to manage the Swedes, " said he to me one day;"he always kept them in a hurry. " We reached Lefwar, our resting-place for the night, in good condition, notwithstanding the 22° below, and felt much colder in the house, afterstripping off our furs, than out of doors with them on. They gave us asupper consisting of _smörgås_ ("butter-goose"--the Swedish prelude to ameal, consisting usually of bread, butter, pickled anchovies, and caviarflavored with garlic), sausages, potatoes, and milk, and made for ussumptuous beds of the snowiest and sweetest linen. When we rose nextmorning it was snowing. About an inch had fallen during the night, andthe mercury had risen to 6° below zero. We drove along in the duskyhalf-twilight toward Angesjö, over low, broad hills, covered withforests of stunted birch and fir. The scenery continued the same, andthere is no use in repeating the description, except to say that theland became more cold and barren, and there seemed to be few thingscultivated except flax, barley and potatoes. Still the same ridgessweeping down to the Gulf, on one hand, the same frozen bays and inletson the other, and villages at intervals of eight or ten miles, each withits great solid church, low red belfry and deserted encampment of redframe stables. Before reaching the second station, we looked from awooded height over the open expanse of the Gulf, --a plain ofsnow-covered ice, stretching eastward as far as the eye could reach. The day gradually became still and cold, until the temperature reached-22° again, and we became comfortable in the same proportion. Theafternoon twilight, splendid with its hues of amber, rose and saffron, died away so gradually, that it seemed scarcely to fade at all, lightingour path for at least three hours after sunset. Our postilions were allboys--ruddy, hardy young fellows of fourteen or fifteen, who drove welland sang incessantly, in spite of the cold. They talked much with us, but to little purpose, as I found it very difficult to understand thehumming dialect they spoke. Each, as he received his _drickpenningar_(drink-money, or gratuity), at the end of the station, expressed histhanks by shaking hands with us. This is a universal custom throughoutthe north of Sweden: it is a part of the simple, natural habits of thepeople; and though it seemed rather odd at first to be shaking handswith everybody, from the landlord down to the cook and the ostler, wesoon came to take it as a matter of course. The frank, unaffected way inwhich the hand was offered, oftener made the custom a pleasant one. At Stocksjö we decided to push on to a station beyond Umeå, calledInnertafle, and took our horses accordingly. The direct road, however, was unused on account of the drifts, so we went around through Umeå, after all. We had nearly a Swedish mile, and it was just dark when wedescended to the Umeå River, across whose solid surface we drove, and upa steep bank into the town. We stopped a few moments in the littlepublic square, which was crowded with people, many of whom had alreadycommenced their Christmas sprees. The shops were lighted, and the littletown looked very gay and lively. Passing through, we kept down the leftbank of the river for a little distance, and then struck into the woods. It was night by this time; all at once the boy stopped, mounted asnow-bank, whirled around three or four times, and said something to mewhich I could not understand. "What's the matter?" I asked; "is not thisthe road to Innertafle?" "I don't know--I think not, " he said. "Don'tyou know the way, then?" I asked again. "No!" he yelled in reply, whirled around several times more, and then drove on. Presently weovertook a pedestrian, to whom he turned for advice, and who willinglyacted as guide for the sake of a ride. Away we went again, but the snowwas so spotless that it was impossible to see the track. Braisted and Iran upon a snow-bank, were overturned and dragged some little distance, but we righted ourselves again, and soon afterwards reached ourdestination. In the little inn the guests' room lay behind the large family kitchen, through which we were obliged to pass. We were seized with a shiveringfit on stripping off our furs, and it seemed scarcely possible to getwarm again. This was followed by such intense drowsiness that we wereobliged to lie down and sleep an hour before supper. After the coldweather set in, we were attacked with this drowsy fit every day, towardevening, and were obliged to take turns in arousing and stimulating eachother. This we generally accomplished by singing "From Greenland's icymountains, " and other appropriate melodies. At Innertafle we wereattended by a tall landlady, a staid, quiet, almost grim person, whopaid most deliberate heed to our wants. After a delay of more than twohours, she furnished us with a supper consisting of some kind of freshfish, with a sauce composed of milk, sugar and onions, followed by_gryngröt_, a warm mush of mixed rice and barley, eaten with milk. Suchwas our fare on Christmas eve; but hunger is the best sauce, and ourdishes were plentifully seasoned with it. CHAPTER V. PROGRESS NORTHWARDS. --A STORM. We arose betimes on Christmas morn, but the grim and deliberate landladydetained us an hour in preparing our coffee. I was in the yard aboutfive minutes, wearing only my cloth overcoat and no gloves, and foundthe air truly sharp and nipping, but not painfully severe. Presently, Braisted came running in with the thermometer, exclaiming, with a yellof triumph, "_Thirty_, by Jupiter!" (30° of Reaumur, equal to 35-1/2°below zero of Fahrenheit. ) We were delighted with this sign of ourapproach to the Arctic circle. The horses were at last ready; we muffled up carefully, and set out. Thedawn was just streaking the East, the sky was crystal-clear, and not abreath of air stirring. My beard was soon a solid mass of ice, from themoisture of my breath, and my nose required constant friction. The dayprevious, the ice which had gathered on my fur collar lay against myface so long that the flesh began to freeze over my cheek-bones, andthereafter I was obliged to be particularly cautious. As it grewlighter, we were surprised to find that our postilion was a girl. Shehad a heavy sheepskin over her knees, a muff for her hands, and a shawlaround her head, leaving only the eyes visible. Thus accoutred, shedrove on merrily, and, except that the red of her cheeks became scarletand purple, showed no signs of the weather. As we approached Sörmjöle, the first station, we again had a broad view of the frozen BothnianGulf, over which hovered a low cloud of white ice-smoke. Looking downinto the snowy valley of Sörmjöle, we saw the straight pillars of smokerising from the houses high into the air, not spreading, but graduallybreaking off into solid masses which sank again and filled the hollow, almost concealing the houses. Only the white, handsome church, with itstall spire, seated on a mound, rose above this pale blue film and shonesoftly in the growing flush of day. We ordered horses at once, after drinking a bowl of hot milk, flavoredwith cinnamon. This is the favourite winter drink of the people, sometimes with the addition of brandy. But the _finkel_, or commonbrandy of Sweden, is a detestable beverage, resembling a mixture ofturpentine, train oil, and bad molasses, and we took the milk unmixed, which admirably assisted in keeping up the animal heat. The mercury bythis time had fallen to 38° below zero. We were surprised and delightedto find that we stood the cold so easily, and prided ourselves not alittle on our powers of endurance. Our feet gradually became benumbed, but, by walking up the hills, we prevented the circulation from comingto a stand-still. The cold, however, played some grotesque pranks with us. My beard, moustache, cap, and fur collar were soon one undivided lump of ice. Oureyelashes became snow-white and heavy with frost, and it requiredconstant motion to keep them from freezing together. We saw everythingthrough visors barred with ivory. Our eyebrows and hair were as hoary asthose of an octogenarian, and our cheeks a mixture of crimson andorange, so that we were scarcely recognizable by each other. Every onewe met had snow-white locks, no matter how youthful the face, and, whatever was the colour of our horses at starting, we always drovemilk-white steeds at the close of the post. The irritation of ournostrils occasioned the greatest inconvenience, and as the handkerchiefsfroze instantly, it soon became a matter of pain and difficulty to usethem. You might as well attempt to blow your nose with a poplar chip. Wecould not bare our hands a minute, without feeling an iron grasp of coldwhich seemed to squeeze the flesh like a vice, and turn the very bloodto ice. In other respects we were warm and jolly, and I have rarely beenin higher spirits. The air was exquisitely sweet and pure, and I couldopen my mouth (as far as its icy grating permitted) and inhale fulldraughts into the lungs with a delicious sensation of refreshment andexhilaration. I had not expected to find such freedom of respiration inso low a temperature. Some descriptions of severe cold in Canada andSiberia, which I have read, state that at such times the air occasions atingling, smarting sensation in the throat and lungs, but I experiencednothing of the kind. This was arctic travel at last. By Odin, it was glorious! The smooth, firm road, crisp and pure as alabaster, over which our sleigh-runnerstalked with the rippling, musical murmur of summer brooks; thesparkling, breathless firmament; the gorgeous rosy flush of morning, slowly deepening until the orange disc of the sun cut the horizon; thegolden blaze of the tops of the bronze firs; the glittering of theglassy birches; the long, dreary sweep of the landscape; the icy nectarof the perfect air; the tingling of the roused blood in every vein, allalert to guard the outposts of life against the besieging cold--it wassuperb! The natives themselves spoke of the cold as being unusuallysevere, and we congratulated ourselves all the more on our easyendurance of it. Had we judged only by our own sensations we should nothave believed the temperature to be nearly so low. The sun rose a little after ten, and I have never seen anything finerthan the spectacle which we then saw for the first time, but which wasafterwards almost daily repeated--the illumination of the forests andsnow-fields in his level orange beams, for even at midday he was notmore than eight degrees above the horizon. The tops of the trees, only, were touched: still and solid as iron, and covered with sparklingfrost-crystals, their trunks were changed to blazing gold, and theirfoliage to a fiery orange-brown. The delicate purple sprays of thebirch, coated with ice, glittered like wands of topaz and amethyst, andthe slopes of virgin snow, stretching towards the sun, shone with thefairest saffron gleams. There is nothing equal to this in theSouth--nothing so transcendently rich, dazzling, and glorious. Italiandawns and twilights cannot surpass those we saw every day, not, like theformer, fading rapidly into the ashen hues of dusk, but lingering forhour after hour with scarce a decrease of splendour. Strange that Natureshould repeat these lovely aerial effects in such widely differentzones and seasons. I thought to find in the winter landscapes of the farNorth a sublimity of death and desolation--a wild, dark, dreary, monotony of expression--but I had, in reality, the constant enjoyment ofthe rarest, the tenderest, the most enchanting beauty. The people one meets along the road harmonise with these unexpectedimpressions. They are clear eyed and rosy as the morning, straight andstrong as the fir saplings in their forests, and simple, honest, andunsophisticated beyond any class of men I have ever seen. They are nomilksops either. Under the serenity of those blue eyes and smooth, fairfaces, burns the old Berserker rage, not easily kindled, but terrible asthe lightning when once loosed. "I would like to take all the young mennorth of Sundsvall, " says Braisted, "put them into Kansas, tell them herhistory, and then let them act for themselves. " "The cold in clime arecold in blood, " sings Byron, but they are only cold through superiorself-control and freedom from perverted passions. Better is theassertion of Tennyson: "That bright, and fierce, and fickle is the South, And dark, and true, and tender is the North. " There are tender hearts in the breasts of these northern men and women, albeit they are as undemonstrative as the English--or we Americans, forthat matter. It is exhilarating to see such people--whose digestion issound, whose nerves are tough as whipcord, whose blood runs in a strongfull stream, whose impulses are perfectly natural, who are good withoutknowing it, and who are happy without trying to be so. Where shall wefind such among our restless communities at home? We made two Swedish miles by noon, and then took a breakfast of friedreindeer meat and pancakes, of which we ate enormously, to keep up agood supply of fuel. Braisted and I consumed about a pound of butterbetween us. Shriek not, young ladies, at our vulgar appetites--you whosip a spoonful of ice-cream, or trifle with a diminutive _meringue_, incompany, but make amends on cold ham and pickles in the pantry, afteryou go home--I shall tell the truth, though it disgust you. This intensecold begets a necessity for fat, and with the necessity comes thetaste--a wise provision of Nature! The consciousness now dawned upon methat I might be able to relish train-oil and tallow-candles before wehad done with Lapland. I had tough work at each station to get my head out of my wrappings, which were united with my beard and hair in one solid lump. The coldincreased instead of diminishing, and by the time we reached Gumboda, atdusk, it was 40° below zero. Here we found a company of Finns travellingsouthward, who had engaged five horses, obliging us to wait a couple ofhours. We had already made forty miles, and were satisfied with ourperformance, so we stopped for the night. When the thermometer wasbrought in, the mercury was frozen, and on unmuffling I found the end ofmy nose seared as if with a hot iron. The inn was capital; we had a warmcarpeted room, beds of clean, lavendered linen, and all civilisedappliances. In the evening we sat down to a Christmas dinner ofsausages, potatoes, pancakes, raspberry jam, and a bottle of Barclayand Perkin's best porter, in which we drank the health of all dearrelatives and friends in the two hemispheres. And this was in WestBothnia, where we had been told in Stockholm that we should starve! Atbedtime, Braisted took out the thermometer again, and soon brought it inwith the mercury frozen below all the numbers on the scale. In the morning, the landlord came in and questioned us, in order tosatisfy his curiosity. He took us for Norwegians, and was quitesurprised to find out our real character. We had also been taken forFinns, Russians and Danes, since leaving Stockholm. "I suppose youintend to buy lumber?" said the landlord. "No, " said I, "we travelmerely for the pleasure of it. " "_Ja so-o-o!_" he exclaimed, in a toneof the greatest surprise and incredulity. He asked if it was necessarythat we should travel in such cold weather, and seemed reluctant to letus go. The mercury showed 25° below zero when we started, but the skywas cloudy, with a raw wind from the north-west. We did not feel thesame hard, griping cold as the day previous, but a more penetratingchill. The same character of scenery continued, but with a more bleakand barren aspect, and the population became more scanty. The cloudy skytook away what little green there was in the fir-trees, and they gloomedas black as Styx on either side of our road. The air was terribly rawand biting as it blew across the hollows and open plains. I did notcover my face, but kept up such a lively friction on my nose, to preventit from freezing, that in the evening I found the skin quite worn away. At Daglösten, the third station, we stopped an hour for breakfast. Itwas a poverty-stricken place, and we could only get some fish-roes andsalt meat. The people were all half-idiots, even to the postilion whodrove us. We had some daylight for the fourth station, did the fifth bytwilight, and the sixth in darkness. The cold (-30°) was so keen thatour postilions made good time, and we reached Sunnanå on the SkellefteåRiver, 52 miles, soon after six o'clock. Here we were lodged in a large, barn-like room, so cold that we were obliged to put on our overcoats andsit against the stove. I began to be troubled with a pain in my jaw, from an unsound tooth--the commencement of a martyrdom from which Isuffered for many days afterwards. The existence of nerves in one'steeth has always seemed to me a superfluous provision of Nature, and Ishould have been well satisfied if she had omitted them in my case. The handmaiden called us soon after five o'clock, and brought us coffeewhile we were still in bed. This is the general custom here in theNorth, and is another point of contact with the South. The sky wasovercast, with raw violent wind--mercury 18° below zero. We felt thecold very keenly; much more so than on Christmas day. The wind blew fullin our teeth, and penetrated even beneath our furs. On setting out, wecrossed the Skellefteå River by a wooden bridge, beyond which we saw, rising duskily in the uncertain twilight, a beautiful dome and lantern, crowning a white temple, built in the form of a Greek cross. It was theparish church of Skellefteå. Who could have expected to find such anedifice, here, on the borders of Lapland? The village about it containsmany large and handsome houses. This is one of the principal points oftrade and intercourse between the coast and the interior. The weather became worse as we advanced, traversing the low, broadhills, through wastes of dark pine forests. The wind cut like a sharpsword in passing the hollows, and the drifting snow began to fill thetracks. We were full two hours in making the ten miles to Frostkage, andthe day seemed scarcely nearer at hand. The leaden, lowering sky gaveout no light, the forests were black and cold, the snow a duskygrey--such horribly dismal scenery I have rarely beheld. We warmedourselves as well as we could, and started anew, having for postilionstwo rosy boys, who sang the whole way and played all sorts of mad anticswith each other to keep from freezing. At the next station we dranklarge quantities of hot milk, flavored with butter, sugar and cinnamon, and then pushed on, with another chubby hop-o'-my-thumb as guide anddriver. The storm grew worse and worse: the wind blew fiercely over thelow hills, loaded with particles of snow, as fine as the point of aneedle and as hard as crystal, which struck full on our eyeballs andstung them so that we could scarcely see. I had great difficulty inkeeping my face from freezing, and my companion found his cheek touched. By the time we reached Abyn, it blew a hurricane, and we were compelledto stop. It was already dusk, and our cosy little room was doublypleasant by contrast with the wild weather outside. Our cheerfullandlady, with her fresh complexion and splendid teeth, was very kindand attentive, and I got on very well in conversation, notwithstandingher broad dialect. She was much astonished at my asking for a bucket ofcold water, for bathing. "Why, " said she, "I always thought that if aperson put his feet into cold water, in winter, he would dieimmediately. " However, she supplied it, and was a little surprised tofind me none the worse in the morning. I passed a terrible night fromthe pain in my face, and was little comforted, on rising, by theassurance that much snow had fallen. The mercury had risen to zero, andthe wind still blew, although not so furiously as on the previous day. We therefore determined to set out, and try to reach Piteå. Thelandlady's son, a tall young Viking, with yellow locks hanging on hisshoulders, acted as postilion, and took the lead. We started at nine, and found it heavy enough at first. It was barely light enough to seeour way, and we floundered slowly along through deep drifts for a mile, when we met the snow-plows, after which our road became easier. Theseplows are wooden frames, shaped somewhat like the bow of a ship--infact, I have seen very fair clipper models among them--about fifteenfeet long by ten feet wide at the base, and so light that, if the snowis not too deep, one horse can manage them. The farmers along the roadare obliged to turn out at six o'clock in the morning whenever the snowfalls or drifts, and open a passage for travellers. Thus, in spite ofthe rigorous winter, communication is never interrupted, and thesnow-road, at last, from frequent plowing, becomes the finest sleighingtrack in the world. The wind blew so violently, however, that the furrows were soon filledup, and even the track of the baggage-sled, fifty yards in advance, wascovered. There was one hollow where the drifts of loose snow were fiveor six feet deep, and here we were obliged to get out and struggleacross, sinking to our loins at every step. It is astonishing how soonone becomes hardened to the cold. Although the mercury stood at zero, with a violent storm, we rode with our faces fully exposed, frost-bitesand all, and even drove with bare hands, without the least discomfort. But of the scenery we saw this day, I can give no description. There wasnothing but long drifts and waves of spotless snow, some dim, dark, spectral fir-trees on either hand, and beyond that a wild chaos ofstorm. The snow came fast and blinding, beating full in our teeth. Itwas impossible to see; the fine particles so stung our eyeballs, that wecould not look ahead. My eyelashes were loaded with snow, whichimmediately turned to ice and froze the lids together, unless I keptthem in constant motion. The storm hummed and buzzed through the blackforests; we were all alone on the road, or even the pious Swedes wouldnot turn out to church on such a day. It was terribly sublime anddesolate, and I enjoyed it amazingly. We kept warm, although there was acrust of ice a quarter of an inch thick on our cheeks, and the ice inour beards prevented us from opening our mouths. At one o'clock, wereached the second station, Gefre, unrecognisable by our nearestfriends. Our eyelashes were weighed down with heavy fringes of frozensnow, there were icicles an inch long hanging to the eaves of ourmoustaches, and the handkerchiefs which wrapped our faces were frozenfast to the flesh. The skin was rather improved by this treatment, butit took us a great while to thaw out. At Gefre, we got some salt meat and hot milk, and then started on ourlong stage of fifteen miles to Piteå. The wind had moderated somewhat, but the snow still fell fast and thick. We were again blinded andfrozen up more firmly than ever, cheeks and all, so that our eyes andlips were the only features to be seen. After plunging along for morethan two hours through dreary woods, we came upon the estuary of thePiteå River, where our course was marked out by young fir-trees, plantedin the ice. The world became a blank; there was snow around, above andbelow, and but for these marks a man might have driven at random untilhe froze. For three miles or more, we rode over the solid gulf, and thentook the woods on the opposite shore. The way seemed almost endless. Ourfeet grew painfully cold, our eyes smarted from the beating of the finesnow, and my swollen jaw tortured me incessantly. Finally lightsappeared ahead through the darkness, but another half hour elapsedbefore we saw houses on both sides of us. There was a street, at last, then a large mansion, and to our great joy the _skjutsbonde_ turned intothe courtyard of an inn. CHAPTER VI. JOURNEY FROM PITEÅ TO HAPARANDA. My jaw was so painful on reaching Piteå, that I tossed about in tormentthe whole night, utterly unable to sleep. The long northern night seemedas if it would never come to an end, and I arose in the morning muchmore fatigued and exhausted than when I lay down. It was 6° below zero, and the storm still blowing, but the cold seemed to relieve my face alittle, and so we set out. The roads were heavy, but a little broken, and still led over hills and through interminable forests of mingled firand pine, in the dark, imperfect day. I took but little note of thescenery, but was so drowsy and overcome, that Braisted at last filledthe long baggage-sled with hay, and sat at the rear, so that I could liestretched out, with my head upon his lap. Here, in spite of the cold andwind, I lay in a warm, stupid half-sleep. It was dark when we reached Ersnäs, whence we had twelve miles to OldLuleå, with tired horses, heavy roads, and a lazy driver. I lay downagain, dozed as usual, and tried to forget my torments. So passed threehours; the night had long set in, with a clear sky, 13° below zero, anda sharp wind blowing. All at once an exclamation from Braisted arousedme. I opened my eyes, as I lay in his lap, looked upward, and saw anarrow belt or scarf of silver fire stretching directly across thezenith, with its loose, frayed ends slowly swaying to and fro down theslopes of the sky. Presently it began to waver, bending back and forth, sometimes slowly, sometimes with a quick, springing motion, as iftesting its elasticity. Now it took the shape of a bow, now undulatedinto Hogarth's line of beauty, brightening and fading in its sinuousmotion, and finally formed a shepherd's crook, the end of which suddenlybegan to separate and fall off, as if driven by a strong wind, until thewhole belt shot away in long, drifting lines of fiery snow. It thengathered again into a dozen dancing fragments, which alternatelyadvanced and retreated, shot hither and thither, against and across eachother, blazed out in yellow and rosy gleams or paled again, playing athousand fantastic pranks, as if guided by some wild whim. We lay silent, with upturned faces, watching this wonderful spectacle. Suddenly, the scattered lights ran together, as by a common impulse, joined their bright ends, twisted them through each other, and fell in abroad, luminous curtain straight downward through the air until itsfringed hem swung apparently but a few yards over our heads. Thisphenomenon was so unexpected and startling, that for a moment I thoughtour faces would be touched by the skirts of the glorious auroraldrapery. It did not follow the spheric curve of the firmament, but hungplumb from the zenith, falling, apparently, millions of leagues throughthe air, its folds gathered together among the stars and its embroideryof flame sweeping the earth and shedding a pale, unearthly radiance overthe wastes of snow. A moment afterwards and it was again drawn up, parted, waved its flambeaux and shot its lances hither and thither, advancing and retreating as before. Anything so strange, so capricious, so wonderful, so gloriously beautiful, I scarcely hope to see again. By this time we came upon the broad Luleå River, and were half an hourtraversing its frozen surface, still watching the snow above us, whichgradually became fainter and less active. Finally we reached theopposite shore, drove up a long slope, through a large village ofstables, and past the imposing church of Old Luleå to the inn. It wasnow nearly eight o'clock, very cold, and I was thoroughly exhausted. Butthe inn was already full of travellers, and there was no place to layour heads. The landlord, a sublimely indifferent Swede, coolly advisedus to go on to Persö, ten miles distant. I told him I had not slept fortwo nights, but he merely shrugged his shoulders, repeated his advice, and offered to furnish horses at once, to get us off. It was a long, cold, dreary ride, and I was in a state of semi-consciousness the wholetime. We reached Persö about eleven, found the house full of travellers, but procured two small beds in a small room with another man in it, andwent to sleep without supper. I was so thoroughly worn out that I gotabout three hours' rest, in spite of my pain. We took coffee in bed at seven, and started for Rånbyn, on the RåneåRiver. The day was lowering, temperature 8-1/2° below zero. The countrywas low, slightly undulating with occasional wide views to the north, over the inlets of the gulf, and vast wide tracts of forest. Thesettlements were still as frequent as ever, but there was littleapparent cultivation, except flax. Rånbyn is a large village, with astately church. The people were putting up booths for a fair (a fair inthe open air, in lat. 65° N. , with the mercury freezing!), whichexplained the increased travel on the road. We kept on to Hvitå forbreakfast, thus getting north of the latitude of Torneå; thence our roadturned eastward at right angles around the head of the Bothnian Gulf. Much snow had fallen, but the road had been ploughed, and we had atolerable track, except when passing sleds, which sometimes gave us anoverturn. We now had uninterrupted forest scenery between the stations--and suchscenery! It is almost impossible to paint the glory of those winterforests. Every tree, laden with the purest snow, resembles a Gothicfountain of bronze, covered with frozen spray, through which onlysuggestive glimpses of its delicate tracery can be obtained. From everyrise we looked over thousands of such mimic fountains, shooting, low orhigh, from their pavements of ivory and alabaster. It was an enchantedwilderness--white, silent, gleaming, and filled with inexhaustible formsof beauty. To what shall I liken those glimpses under the boughs, intothe depths of the forest, where the snow destroyed all perspective, andbrought the remotest fairy nooks and coverts, too lovely and fragile toseem cold, into the glittering foreground? "Wonderful! Glorious!" Icould only exclaim, in breathless admiration. Once, by the roadside, wesaw an Arctic ptarmigan, as white as the snow, with ruby eyes thatsparkled like jewels as he moved slowly and silently along, notfrightened in the least. The sun set a little after one o'clock, and we pushed on to reach theKalix River the same evening. At the last station we got a boy postilionand two lazy horses, and were three hours and a half on the road, with atemperature of 20° below zero. My feet became like ice, which increasedthe pain in my face, and I began to feel faint and sick with so muchsuffering and loss of rest. The boy aggravated us so much by hislaziness, that Braisted ran ahead and cuffed his ears, after which hemade better speed. After a drive through interminable woods, we cameupon the banks of the Kalix, which were steep and fringed with splendidfirs. Then came the village of Månsbyn, where, thank Heaven, we gotsomething to eat, a warm room, and a bed. While we were at supper, two travellers arrived, one of whom, awell-made, richly-dressed young fellow, was ushered into our room. Hewas a _bruk-patron_ (iron-master), so the servant informed us, and fromhis superfine broad-cloth, rings, and the immense anchor-chain whichattached him to his watch, appeared to be doing a thriving business. Hehad the Norse bloom on his face, a dignified nose, and English whiskersflanking his smoothly-shaven chin. His air was flushed and happy; he wasnot exactly drunk, but comfortably within that gay and cheerfulvestibule beyond which lies the chamber of horrors. He listened to ourconversation for some time, and finally addressed me in imperfectEnglish. This led to mutual communications, and a declaration of ourcharacter, and object in travel--nothing of which would he believe. "Nobody can possibly come here for pleasure, " said he; "I know better;you have a secret political mission. " Our amusement at this onlystrengthened him in his suspicions. Nevertheless he called for a bottleof port wine, which, when it came, turned out to be bad Malaga, andinsisted on drinking a welcome. "You are in latitude 66° north, " saidhe; "on the Kalix, where no American has ever been before, and I shallcall my friend to give a _skål_ to your country. We have been to thechurch, where my friend is stationed. " With that he went out, and soon returned with a short, stout, broadfaced, large-headed man of forty or thereabouts. His manner wasperfectly well-bred and self-possessed, and I took him to be aclergyman, especially as the iron-master addressed him as "BrotherHorton. " "Now, " said he, "welcome to 66° north, and prosperity to freeAmerica! Are you for Buchanan or Fremont?" Brother Horton kept awatchful eye upon his young friend, but cheerfully joined in thesentiment. I gave in return: "_Skål_ to Sweden and the Swedish people, "and hoped to get rid of our jolly acquaintance; but he was not to beshaken off. "You don't know me, " he said; "and I don't know you--but youare something more than you seem to be: you are a political character. "Just then Braisted came in with the thermometer, and announced 24° ofcold (Reaumur). "Thousand devils!" exclaimed Brother Horton (and now Iwas convinced that he was not a clergyman), "what a thermometer! Howcold it makes the weather! Would you part with it if I were to give youmoney in return?" I declined, stating that it was impossible for us toprocure so cold a thermometer in the north, and we wanted to have as lowa temperature as could be obtained. This seemed to puzzle the iron-master, who studied awhile upon it, andthen returned to the subject of my political mission. "I suppose youspeak French, " said he; "it is necessary in diplomacy. I can speak italso"--which he began to do, in a bungling way. I answered in the samelanguage, but he soon gave up the attempt and tried German. I changedalso, and, finding that he had exhausted his philology, of which he wasrather proud, especially as Brother Horton knew nothing but Swedish, determined to have a little fun. "Of course you know Italian, " said I;"it is more musical than German, " and forthwith addressed him in thatlanguage. He reluctantly confessed his ignorance. "Oh, well, " Icontinued, "Spanish is equally agreeable to me;" and took up that tonguebefore he could reply. His face grew more and more blank and bewildered. "The Oriental languages are doubtless familiar to you;" I persisted, "Ihave had no practice in Arabic for some time, " and overwhelmed him withEgyptian salutations. I then tried him with Hindustanee, which exhaustedmy stock, but concluded by giving him the choice of Malay, Tartar, orThibetan. "Come, come, " said Brother Horton, taking his arm as he stoodstaring and perplexed--"the horses are ready. " With some difficulty hewas persuaded to leave, after shaking hands with us, and exclaiming, many times, "You are a very seldom man!" When we awoke, the temperature had risen to 2° above zero, with atremendous snow-storm blowing. As we were preparing to set out, acovered sled drove in from the north, with two Swedish naval officers, whose vessel had been frozen in at Cronstadt, and who had been obligedto return home through Finland, up the eastern coast of the BothnianGulf. The captain, who spoke excellent English, informed me that theywere in about the same latitude as we, on Christmas day, on the oppositeside of the gulf, and had experienced the same degree of cold. Both ofthem had their noses severely frozen. We were two hours and a half intravelling to the first station, seven miles, as the snow was falling inblinding quantities, and the road was not yet ploughed out. All thepedestrians we met were on runners, but even with their snow skates, five feet long, they sank deep enough to make their progress very slowand toilsome. By the time we reached Näsby my face was very much swollen and inflamed, and as it was impossible to make the next stage by daylight, we wiselydetermined to stop there. The wind blew a hurricane, the hardsnow-crystals lashed the windows and made a gray chaos of allout-of-doors, but we had a warm, cosy, carpeted room within, a capitaldinner in the afternoon, and a bottle of genuine London porter with ourevening pipe. So we passed the last day of A. D. 1856, grateful to Godfor all the blessings which the year had brought us, and for the comfortand shelter we enjoyed, in that Polar wilderness of storm and snow. On New Year's morning it blew less, and the temperature wascomparatively mild, so, although the road was very heavy, we startedagain. Näsby is the last Swedish station, the Finnish frontier, which isan abrupt separation of races and tongues, being at the north-westerncorner of the Bothnian Gulf. In spite of the constant intercourse whichnow exists between Norrland and the narrow strip of Finnish soil whichremains to Sweden, there has been no perceptible assimilation of the tworaces. At Näsby, all is pure Swedish; at Sängis, twelve miles distant, everything is Finnish. The blue eyes and fair hair, the lengthened ovalof the face, and slim, straight form disappear. You see, instead, squarefaces, dark eyes, low foreheads, and something of an Oriental fire andwarmth in the movements. The language is totally dissimilar, and eventhe costume, though of the same general fashion, presents manynoticeable points of difference. The women wear handkerchiefs of somebright color bound over the forehead and under the chin, very similar tothose worn by the Armenian women in Asia Minor. On first coming amongthem, the Finns impressed me as a less frank and open hearted, but moreoriginal and picturesque, race than the Swedes. It is exceedinglycurious and interesting to find such a flavour of the Orient on theborders of the Frigid Zone. The roads were very bad, and our drivers and horses provokingly slow, but we determined to push on to Haparanda the same night. I needed restand medical aid, my jaw by this time being so swollen that I had greatdifficulty in eating--a state of things which threatened to diminish mysupply of fuel, and render me sensitive to the cold. We reached Nickala, the last station, at seven o'clock. Beyond this, the road wasfrightfully deep in places. We could scarcely make any headway, and werefrequently overturned headlong into the drifts. The driver was a Finn, who did not understand a word of Swedish, and all our urging was of noavail. We went on and on, in the moonlight, over arms of the gulf, through forests, and then over ice again--a flat, monotonous country, with the same dull features repeated again and again. At half-past nine, a large white church announced our approach to Haparanda, and soonafterwards we drove up to the inn, which was full of New-Year carousers. The landlord gave us quarters in the same room with an old Norrlander, who was very drunk, and annoyed us not a little until we got into bedand pretended to sleep. It was pretence nearly the whole night, on mypart, for my torture was still kept up. The next morning I called uponDr. Wretholm, the physician of the place, --not without somemisgivings, --but his prescription of a poultice of mallow leaves, asudorific and an opiate, restored my confidence, and I cheerfullyresigned myself to a rest of two or three days, before proceedingfurther northward. CHAPTER VII. CROSSING THE ARCTIC CIRCLE. I was obliged to remain three days in Haparanda, applying poultices, gargles, and liniments, according to the doctor's instructions. As mySwedish was scarcely sufficient for the comprehension of prescriptions, or medical technicalities in general, a written programme of mytreatment was furnished to Fredrika, the servant-maid, who was properlyimpressed with the responsibility thereby devolving upon her. Fredrika, no doubt, thought that my life was in her hands, and nothing couldexceed the energy with which she undertook its preservation. Punctuallyto the minute appeared the prescribed application, and, if she perceivedor suspected any dereliction on my part, it was sure to be reported tothe doctor at his next visit. I had the taste of camomile and mallows inmy mouth from morning till night; the skin of my jaw blistered under thescorching of ammonia; but the final result was, that I was cured, as thedoctor and Fredrika had determined. This good-hearted girl was a genuine specimen of the Northern Swedishfemale. Of medium height, plump, but not stout, with a rather slenderwaist and expansive hips, and a foot which stepped firmly and nimbly atthe same time, she was as cheerful a body as one could wish to see. Herhair was of that silky blonde so common in Sweden; her eyes a clear, pale blue, her nose straight and well formed, her cheeks of the delicatepink of a wild-rose leaf, and her teeth so white, regular and perfectthat I am sure they would make her fortune in America. Always cheerful, kind and active, she had, nevertheless, a hard life of it: she was alikecook, chambermaid, and hostler, and had a cross mistress to boot. Shemade our fires in the morning darkness, and brought us our early coffeewhile we yet lay in bed, in accordance with the luxurious habits of theArctic zone. Then, until the last drunken guest was silent, towardsmidnight, there was no respite from labour. Although suffering from adistressing cough, she had the out-door as well as the in-door duties todischarge, and we saw her in a sheepskin jacket harnessing horses, in atemperature 30° below zero. The reward of such a service was possiblyabout _eight_ American dollars a year. When, on leaving, I gave herabout as much as one of our hotel servants would expect for answering aquestion, the poor girl was overwhelmed with gratitude, and even thestern landlady was so impressed by my generosity that she insisted onlending us a sheepskin for our feet, saying we were "good men. " There is something exceedingly primitive and unsophisticated in themanners of these Northern people--a straight-forward honesty, whichtakes the honesty of others for granted--a latent kindness and good-willwhich may at first be overlooked, because it is not demonstrative, and atotal unconsciousness of what is called, in highly civilised circles, "propriety. " The very freedom of manners which, in some countries, mightdenote laxity of morals, is here the evident stamp of their purity. Thethought has often recurred to me--which is the most truly pure andvirginal nature, the fastidious American girl, who blushes at the sightof a pair of boots outside a gentleman's bedroom door, and who requiresthat certain unoffending parts of the body and articles of clothingshould be designated by delicately circumlocutious terms, or thesimple-minded Swedish women, who come into our bedrooms with coffee, andmake our fires while we get up and dress, coming and going during allthe various stages of the toilet, with the frankest unconsciousness ofimpropriety? This is modesty in its healthy and natural development, notin those morbid forms which suggest an imagination ever on the alert forprurient images. Nothing has confirmed my impression of the virtue ofthe Northern Swedes more than this fact, and I have rarely felt morerespect for woman or more faith in the inherent purity of her nature. We had snug quarters in Haparanda, and our detention was therefore by nomeans irksome. A large room, carpeted, protected from the outer cold bydouble windows, and heated by an immense Russian stove, was allotted tous. We had two beds, one of which became a broad sofa during the day, abackgammon table, the ordinary appliances for washing, and, besides anumber of engravings on the walls, our window commanded a full view ofTorneå, and the ice-track across the river, where hundreds of personsdaily passed to and fro. The eastern window showed us the Arctic dawn, growing and brightening through its wonderful gradations of color, forfour hours, when the pale orange sun appeared above the distant houses, to slide along their roofs for two hours, and then dip again. We hadplentiful meals, consisting mostly of reindeer meat, with a sauce ofSwedish cranberries, potatoes, which had been frozen, but were stillpalatable, salmon roes, soft bread in addition to the black shingles of_fladbröd_, English porter, and excellent Umeå beer. In fact, in nocountry inn of the United States could we have been more comfortable. For the best which the place afforded, during four days, with a smallprovision for the journey, we paid about seven dollars. The day before our departure, I endeavored to obtain some informationconcerning the road to Lapland, but was disappointed. The landlordascertained that there were _skjuts_, or relays of post-horses, as faras Muonioniska, 210 English miles, but beyond this I could only learnthat the people were all Finnish, spoke no Swedish, were miserably poor, and could give us nothing to eat. I was told that a certain officialpersonage at the apothecary's shop spoke German, and hastened thither;but the official, a dark-eyed, olive-faced Finn, could not understand myfirst question. The people even seemed entirely ignorant of thegeography of the country beyond Upper Torneå, or Matarengi, forty milesoff. The doctor's wife, a buxom, motherly lady, who seemed to feel quitean interest in our undertaking, and was as kind and obliging as suchwomen always are, procured for us a supply of _fladbröd_ made of rye, and delightfully crisp and hard--and this was the substance of ourpreparations. Reindeer mittens were not to be found, nor a reindeerskin to cover our feet, so we relied, as before, on plenty of hay and myScotch plaid. We might, perhaps, have had better success in Torneå, butI knew no one there who would be likely to assist us, and we did noteven visit the old place. We had taken the precaution of getting theRussian _visé_, together with a small stock of roubles, at Stockholm, but found that it was quite unnecessary. No passport is required forentering Torneå, or travelling on the Russian side of the frontier. Trusting to luck, which is about the best plan after all, we startedfrom Haparanda at noon, on the 5th of January. The day was magnificent, the sky cloudless, and resplendent as polished steel, and the mercury31° below zero. The sun, scarcely more than the breadth of his discabove the horizon, shed a faint orange light over the broad, levelsnow-plains, and the bluish-white hemisphere of the Bothnian Gulf, visible beyond Torneå. The air was perfectly still, and exquisitely coldand bracing, despite the sharp grip it took upon my nose and ears. TheseArctic days, short as they are, have a majesty of their own--a splendor, subdued though it be; a breadth and permanence of hue, imparted alike tothe sky and to the snowy earth, as if tinted glass was held before youreyes. I find myself at a loss how to describe these effects, or theimpression they produce upon the traveller's mood. Certainly, it is thevery reverse of that depression which accompanies the Polar night, andwhich even the absence of any real daylight might be consideredsufficient to produce. Our road was well beaten, but narrow, and we had great difficulty inpassing the many hay and wood teams which met us, on account of thedepth of the loose snow on either side. We had several violent overturnsat such times, one of which occasioned us the loss of our belovedpipe--a loss which rendered Braisted disconsolate for the rest of theday. We had but one between us, and the bereavement was not slight. Soonafter leaving Haparanda, we passed a small white obelisk, with the words"Russian Frontier" upon it. The town of Torneå, across the frozen river, looked really imposing, with the sharp roof and tall spire of its oldchurch rising above the line of low red buildings. Campbell, I remember, says, "Cold as the rocks on Torneo's hoary brow, " with the same disregard of geography which makes him grow palm treesalong the Susquehanna River. There was Torneå; but I looked in vain forthe "hoary brow. " Not a hill within sight, nor a rock within a circuitof ten miles, but one unvarying level, like the western shore of theAdriatic, formed by the deposits of the rivers and the retrocession ofthe sea. Our road led up the left bank of the river, both sides of which werestudded with neat little villages. The country was well cleared andcultivated, and appeared so populous and flourishing that I couldscarcely realise in what part of the world we were. The sun set at aquarter past one, but for two hours the whole southern heaven was superbin its hues of rose and orange. The sheepskin lent us by our landladykept our feet warm, and we only felt the cold in our faces; my nose, especially, which, having lost a coat of skin, was very fresh andtender, requiring unusual care At three o'clock, when we reachedKuckula, the first station, the northern sky was one broad flush of thepurest violet, melting into lilac at the zenith, where it met the fieryskirts of sunset. We refreshed ourselves with hot milk, and pushed ahead, with betterhorses. At four o'clock it was bright moonlight, with the stillest air. We got on bravely over the level, beaten road, and in two hours reachedKorpikylä, a large new inn, where we found very tolerable accommodations. Our beds were heaps of reindeer skins; a frightfully ugly Finnish girl, who knew a few words of Swedish, prepared us a supper of tough meat, potatoes, and ale. Everything was now pure Finnish, and the firstquestion of the girl, "_Hvarifrån kommar du?_" (Where dost thou comefrom?) showed an ignorance of the commonest Swedish form of address. Sheawoke us with a cup of coffee in the morning, and negotiated for us thepurchase of a reindeer skin, which we procured for something less than adollar. The _hus-bonde_ (house-peasant, as the landlord is called here)made no charge for our entertainment, but said we might give what wepleased. I offered, at a venture, a sum equal to about fifty cents, whereupon he sent the girl to say that he thanked us most heartily. The next day was a day to be remembered: such a glory of twilightsplendors for six full hours was beyond all the charms of daylight inany zone. We started at seven, with a temperature of 20° below zero, still keeping up the left bank of the Torneå. The country now rose intobold hills, and the features of the scenery became broad and majestic. The northern sky was again pure violet, and a pale red tinge from thedawn rested on the tops of the snowy hills. The prevailing color of thesky slowly brightened into lilac, then into pink, then rose color, whichagain gave way to a flood of splendid orange when the sun appeared. Every change of color affected the tone of the landscape. The woods, sowrapped in snow that not a single green needle was to be seen, took byturns the hues of the sky, and seemed to give out, rather than toreflect, the opalescent lustre of the morning. The sunshine brightenedinstead of dispelling these effects. At noon the sun's disc was not morethan 1° above the horizon, throwing a level golden light on the hills. The north, before us, was as blue as the Mediterranean, and the vault ofheaven, overhead, canopied us with pink. Every object was glorified andtransfigured in the magic glow. At the first station we got some hot milk, with raw salmon, shinglebread and frozen butter. Our horses were good, and we drove merrilyalong, up the frozen Torneå. The roads were filled with people going tochurch, probably to celebrate some religious anniversary. Fresh ruddyfaces had they, firm features, strong frames and resolute carriage, butthe most of them were positively ugly, and, by contrast with the frankSwedes, their expression was furtive and sinister. Near Päckilä wepassed a fine old church of red brick, with a very handsome belfry. AtNiemis we changed horses in ten minutes, and hastened on up the bed ofthe Torneå to Matarengi, where we should reach the Arctic Circle. Thehills rose higher, with fine sweeping outlines, and the river was stillhalf a mile broad--a plain of solid snow, with the track marked out bybushes. We kept a sharp look-out for the mountain of Avasaxa, one ofthe stations of Celsius, Maupertius, and the French Academicians, whocame here in 1736, to make observations determining the exact form ofthe earth. Through this mountain, it is said, the Arctic Circle passes, though our maps were neither sufficiently minute nor correct todetermine the point. We took it for granted, however, as a mile one wayor the other could make but little difference; and as Matarengi lies duewest of Avasaxa, across the river, we decided to stop there and takedinner on the Arctic Circle. The increase of villages on both banks, with the appearance of a largechurch, denoted our approach to Matarengi, and we saw at once that thetall, gently-rounded, isolated hill opposite, now blazing with goldensnow, could be none other than Avasaxa. Here we were, at last, enteringthe Arctic Zone, in the dead of winter--the realization of a dream whichhad often flashed across my mind, when lounging under the tropicalpalms; so natural is it for one extreme to suggest the opposite. I tookour bearings with a compass-ring, as we drove forward, and as the summitof Avasaxa bore due east we both gave a shout which startled ourpostilion and notably quickened the gait of our horses. It was impossibleto toss our caps, for they were not only tied upon our heads, but frozenfast to our beards. So here we were at last, in the true dominions ofWinter. A mild ruler he had been to us, thus far, but he proved a despotbefore we were done with him. Soon afterwards, we drove into the inn at Matarengi, which was full ofcountry people, who had come to attend church. The landlord, a sallow, watery-eyed Finn, who knew a few words of Swedish, gave us a room in anadjoining house, and furnished a dinner of boiled fish and barley mush, to which was added a bottle labelled "Dry Madeira, " brought fromHaparanda for the occasion. At a shop adjoining, Braisted found aserviceable pipe, so that nothing was wanting to complete our jubilee. We swallowed the memory of all who were dear to us, in the dubiousbeverage, inaugurated our Arctic pipe, which we proposed to take home asa _souvenir_ of the place, and set forward in the most cheery mood. Our road now crossed the river and kept up the Russian side to a placewith the charming name of Torakankorwa. The afternoon twilight was evenmore wonderful than that of the forenoon. There were broad bands ofpurple, pure crimson, and intense yellow, all fusing together into fieryorange at the south, while the north became a semi-vault of pink, thenlilac, and then the softest violet. The dazzling Arctic hills participatedin this play of colors, which did not fade, as in the South, but stayed, and stayed, as if God wished to compensate by this twilight glory for theloss of the day. Nothing in Italy, nothing in the Tropics, equals themagnificence of the Polar skies. The twilight gave place to a moonlightscarcely less brilliant. Our road was hardly broken, leading through deepsnow, sometimes on the river, sometimes through close little glens, hedgedin with firs drooping with snow--fairy Arctic solitudes, white, silentand mysterious. By seven o'clock we reached a station called Juoxengi. The place waswholly Finnish, and the landlord, who did not understand a word ofSwedish, endeavoured to make us go on to the next station. We pointedto the beds and quietly carried in our baggage. I made the usual signsfor eating, which speedily procured us a pail of sour milk, bread andbutter, and two immense tin drinking horns of sweet milk. The peopleseemed a little afraid of us, and kept away. Our postilion was a sillyfellow, who could not understand whether his money was correct. In thecourse of our stenographic conversation, I learned that "_cax_" signifiedtwo. When I gave him his drink-money he said "_ketox!_" and on going outthe door, "_hüweste!_"--so that I at least discovered the Finnish for"Thank you!" and "Good-bye!" This, however, was not sufficient to orderhorses the next morning. We were likewise in a state of delightfuluncertainty as to our future progress, but this very uncertainty gave azest to our situation, and it would have been difficult to find twojollier men with frozen noses. CHAPTER VIII. ADVENTURES AMONG THE FINNS. We drank so much milk (for want of more solid food) at Juoxengi, that inspite of sound sleep under our sheepskin blankets, we both awoke withheadaches in the morning. The Finnish landlord gave me to understand, byholding up his fore-finger, and pronouncing the word "_üx_, " that I wasto pay one _rigsdaler_ (about 26 cents), for our entertainment, and wasovercome with grateful surprise when I added a trifle more. We gotunderway by six o'clock, when the night was just at its darkest, and itwas next to impossible to discern any track on the spotless snow. Trusting to good luck to escape overturning, we followed in the wake ofthe _skjutsbonde_, who had mounted our baggage sled upon one of thecountry sledges, and rode perched upon his lofty seat. Our horses weretolerable, but we had eighteen miles to Pello, the next station, whichwe reached about ten o'clock. Our road was mostly upon the Torneå River, sometimes taking to the woodson either side, to cut off bends. The morn was hours in dawning, withthe same splendid transitions of colour. The forests were indescribablein their silence, whiteness, and wonderful variety of snowy adornment. The weeping birches leaned over the road, and formed white fringedarches; the firs wore mantles of ermine, and ruffs and tippets of thesoftest swan's down. Snow, wind, and frost had worked the mostmarvellous transformations in the forms of the forest. Here werekneeling nuns, with their arms hanging listlessly by their sides, andthe white cowls falling over their faces; there lay a warrior's helmet;lace curtains, torn and ragged, hung from the points of little Gothicspires; caverns, lined with sparry incrustations, silver palm-leaves, doors, loop-holes, arches and arcades were thrown together in afantastic confusion and mingled with the more decided forms of thelarger trees, which, even, were trees but in form, so completely werethey wrapped in their dazzling disguise. It was an enchanted land, whereyou hardly dared to breathe, lest a breath might break the spell. There was still little change in the features of the country, exceptthat it became wilder and more rugged, and the settlements poorer andfurther apart. There were low hills on either side, wildernesses ofbirch and fir, and floors of level snow over the rivers and marshes. Onapproaching Pello, we saw our first reindeer, standing beside a hut. Hewas a large, handsome animal; his master, who wore a fur dress, we ofcourse set down for a Lapp. At the inn a skinny old hag, who knew adozen words of Swedish, got us some bread, milk, and raw frozen salmon, which, with the aid of a great deal of butter, sufficed us for a meal. Our next stage was to Kardis, sixteen miles, which we made in fourhours. While in the midst of a forest on the Swedish side, we fell inwith a herd of reindeer, attended by half-a-dozen Lapps. They cametramping along through the snow, about fifty in number, including adozen which ran loose. The others were harnessed to _pulks_, thecanoe-shaped reindeer sledges, many of which were filled with stores andbaggage. The Lapps were rather good-looking young fellows, with abright, coppery, orange complexion, and were by no means soill-favoured, short, and stunted as I had imagined. One of them was, indeed, really handsome, with his laughing eyes, sparkling teeth, and aslender, black moustache. We were obliged to wait a quarter-of-an-hour while the herd passed, andthen took to the river again. The effect of sunset on the snow wasmarvellous--the spotless mounds and drifts, far and near, being stainedwith soft rose colour, until they resembled nothing so much as heaps ofstrawberry ice. At Kardis the people sent for an interpreter, who was ayoung man, entirely blind. He helped us to get our horses, although wewere detained an hour, as only one horse is kept in readiness at thesestations, and the neighbourhood must be scoured to procure another. Iemployed the time in learning a few Finnish words--the wholetravelling-stock, in fact, on which I made the journey to Muonioniska. That the reader may see how few words of a strange language will enablehim to travel, as well as to give a sample of Finnish, I herewith copymy whole vocabulary: one üxtwo caxthree kolmafour neliafive viissix oosseven settimaeight kahexanine öhexaten kiumenea half puolihorses hevorsteimmediately varsinready walmisdrive on! ayò perli!how much? guinga paliaa mile peligormabread lebameat lihamilk maitobutter voyfire valkära bed sängu (Swedish)good hüvabad páhá We kept on our way up the river, in the brilliant afternoon moonlight. The horses were slow; so were the two _skjutsbonder_, to whom I cried invain: "Ayò perli!" Braisted with difficulty restrained his inclinationto cuff their ears. Hour after hour went by, and we grew more and morehungry, wrathful and impatient. About eight o'clock they stopped below ahouse on the Russian side, pitched some hay to the horses, climbed thebank, and summoned us to follow. We made our way with some difficultythrough the snow, and entered the hut, which proved to be the abode of acooper--at least the occupant, a rough, shaggy, dirty Orson of a fellow, was seated upon the floor, making a tub, by the light of the fire. Thejoists overhead were piled with seasoned wood, and long bundles of thin, dry fir, which is used for torches during the winter darkness. There wasneither chair nor table in the hut; but a low bench ran around thewalls, and a rough bedstead was built against one corner. Two buckets ofsour milk, with a wooden ladle, stood beside the door. This beverageappears to be generally used by the Finns for quenching thirst, insteadof water. Our postilions were sitting silently upon the bench, and wefollowed their example, lit our pipes, and puffed away, while thecooper, after the first glance, went on with his work; and the othermembers of his family, clustered together in the dusky corner behind thefireplace, were equally silent. Half an hour passed, and the spiritmoved no one to open his mouth. I judged at last that the horses hadbeen baited sufficiently, silently showed my watch to the postilions, who, with ourselves, got up and went away without a word having beensaid to mar the quaint drollery of the incident. While at Haparanda, we had been recommended to stop at Kingis Bruk, atthe junction of the Torneå and Muonio. "There, " we were told, "you canget everything you want: there is a fine house, good beds, and plenty toeat and drink. " Our blind interpreter at Kardis repeated this advice. "Don't go on to Kexisvara;" (the next station) said he, "stop at Kengis, where everything is good. " Toward Kengis, then, this oasis in the arcticdesolation, our souls yearned. We drove on until ten o'clock in thebrilliant moonlight and mild, delicious air--for the temperature hadactually risen to 25° above zero!--before a break in the hills announcedthe junction of the two rivers. There was a large house on the top of ahill on our left, and, to our great joy, the postilions drove directlyup to it. "Is this Kengis?" I asked, but their answers I could notunderstand, and they had already unharnessed their horses. There was a light in the house, and we caught a glimpse of a woman'sface at the window, as we drove up. But the light was immediatelyextinguished, and everything became silent. I knocked at the door, whichwas partly open, but no one came. I then pushed: a heavy log of wood, which was leaning against it from the inside, fell with a noise whichreverberated through the house. I waited awhile, and then, groping myway along a passage to the door of the room which had been lighted, knocked loudly. After a little delay, the door was opened by a youngman, who ushered me into a warm, comfortable room, and then quietlystared at me, as if to ask what I wanted. "We are travellers andstrangers, " said I, "and wish to stop for the night. " "This is not aninn, " he answered; "it is the residence of the _patron_ of the ironworks. " I may here remark that it is the general custom in Sweden, inremote districts, for travellers to call without ceremony upon theparson, magistrate, or any other prominent man in a village, and claimhis hospitality. In spite of this doubtful reception, considering thatour horses were already stabled and the station three or four milesfurther, I remarked again: "But perhaps we may be allowed to remain hereuntil morning?" "I will ask, " he replied, left the room, and soonreturned with an affirmative answer. We had a large, handsomely furnished room, with a sofa and curtainedbed, into which we tumbled as soon as the servant-girl, in compliancewith a hint of mine, had brought up some bread, milk, and cheese. We hada cup of coffee in the morning, and were preparing to leave when the_patron_ appeared. He was a short, stout, intelligent Swede, who greetedus courteously, and after a little conversation, urged us to stay untilafter breakfast. We were too hungry to need much persuasion, and indeedthe table set with _tjäde_, or capercailie (one of the finest game birdsin the world), potatoes, cranberries, and whipped cream, accompaniedwith excellent Umeå ale, and concluded with coffee, surpassed anythingwe had sat down to for many a day. The _patron_ gave me considerableinformation about the country, and quieted a little anxiety I wasbeginning to feel, by assuring me that we should find post-horses allthe way to Muonioniska, still ninety-five miles distant. He informed methat we had already got beyond the daylight, as the sun had not yetrisen at Kengis. This, however, was in consequence of a hill to thesouthward, as we afterwards found that the sun was again above thehorizon. We laid in fuel enough to last us through the day, and then took leaveof our host, who invited us to visit him on our return. Crossing theTorneå, an hour's drive over the hills brought us to the village ofKexisvara, where we were obliged to wait some time for our horses. Atthe inn there was a well forty feet deep, with the longest sweep-pole Iever saw. The landlady and her two sisters were pleasant bodies, andsociably inclined, if we could have talked to them. They were allspinning tow, their wheels purring like pleased lionesses. The sun'sdisc came in sight at a quarter past eleven, and at noon his lower limbjust touched the horizon. The sky was of a splendid saffron hue, whichchanged into a burning brassy yellow. Our horses promised little for speed when we set out, and their harnessbeing ill adapted to our sleds increased the difficulty. Instead ofhames there were wide wooden yokes, the ends of which passed throughmortices in the ends of the shafts, and were fastened with pins, while, as there was no belly-bands, the yokes rose on going down hill, bringingour sleds upon the horses' heels. The Finnish sleds have excessivelylong shafts, in order to prevent this. Our road all day was upon theMuonio River, the main branch of the Torneå, and the boundary betweenSweden and Russia, above the junction. There had been a violent windduring the night, and the track was completely filled up. The Torneå andMuonio are both very swift rivers, abounding in dangerous rapids, butduring the winter, rapids and all, they are solid as granite from theirsources to the Bothnian Gulf. We plunged along slowly, hour after hour, more than half the time clinging to one side or the other, to preventour sled from overturning--and yet it upset at least a dozen timesduring the day. The scenery was without change: low, black fir forestson either hand, with the decorative snow blown off them; no villages, orsigns of life, except the deserted huts of the wood-cutters, nor did wemeet but one sled during the whole day. Here and there, on the banks, were sharp, canoe-like boats, twenty or thirty feet long, turned bottomupward. The sky was overcast, shutting out the glorious coloring of thepast days. The sun set before one o'clock, and the dull twilightdeepened apace into night. Nothing could be more cheerless and dismal:we smoked and talked a little, with much silence between, and I began tothink that one more such day would disgust me with the Arctic Zone. It was four o'clock, and our horses were beginning to stagger, when wereached a little village called Jokijalka, on the Russian side. Thepostilion stopped at a house, or rather a quadrangle of huts, which hemade me comprehend was an inn, adding that it was 4 _polàn_ and 3_belikor_ (a fearfully unintelligible distance!) to the next one. Weentered, and found promise enough in the thin, sallow, sandy-haired, andmost obsequious landlord, and a whole herd of rosy children, to decideus to stop. We were ushered into the milk-room, which was warm andcarpeted, and had a single narrow bed. I employed my vocabulary withgood effect, the quick-witted children helping me out, and in due timewe got a supper of fried mutton, bread, butter, and hot milk. Thechildren came in every few minutes to stare at our writing, an operationwhich they probably never saw before. They would stand in silentcuriosity for half an hour at a time, then suddenly rush out, and enjoya relief of shouts and laughter on the outside. Since leaving Matarengiwe had been regarded at all the stations with much wonder, not alwaysunmixed with mistrust. Whether this was simply a manifestation of thedislike which the Finns have for the Swedes, for whom they probably tookus, or of other suspicions on their part, we could not decide. After a time one of the neighbors, who had been sent for on account ofhis knowing a very few words of Swedish, was ushered into the room. Through him I ordered horses, and ascertained that the next station, Kihlangi, was three and a half Swedish miles distant, but there was aplace on the Russian side, one mile off, where we could change horses. We had finished writing, and were sitting by the stove, consulting howwe should arrange the bed so as to avoid contact with the dirtycoverlet, when the man returned and told us we must go into anotherhouse. We crossed the yard to the opposite building, where, to our greatsurprise, we were ushered into a warm room, with two good beds, whichhad clean though coarse sheets, a table, looking-glass, and a bit ofcarpet on the floor. The whole male household congregated to see us takepossession and ascertain whether our wants were supplied. I sleptluxuriously until awakened by the sound of our landlord bringing in woodto light the fire. He no sooner saw that my eyes were open than hesnatched off his cap and threw it upon the floor, moving about with asmuch awe and silence as if it were the Emperor's bedroom. His daughterbrought us excellent coffee betimes. We washed our faces with ourtumblers of drinking water, and got under way by half-past six. The temperature had changed again in the night, being 28° below zero, but the sky was clear and the morning moonlight superb. By this time wewere so far north that the moon did not set at all, but wheeled aroundthe sky, sinking to within eight degrees of the horizon at noonday. Ourroad led across the river, past the church of Kolare, and through astretch of the Swedish forests back to the river again. To our greatsurprise, the wind had not blown here, the snow still hung heavy on thetrees, and the road was well beaten. At the Russian post-house we foundonly a woman with the usual troop of children, the eldest of whom, a boyof sixteen, was splitting fir to make torches. I called out"_hevorste!_" (horses), to which he made a deliberate answer, and wenton with his work. After some consultation with the old woman, a youngerboy was sent off somewhere, and we sat down to await the result. Icalled for meat, milk, bread, and butter, which procured us in course oftime a pitcher of cold milk, some bread made of ground barley straw, horribly hard and tough, and a lump of sour frozen butter. There wassome putrid fish in a wooden bowl, on which the family had breakfasted, while an immense pot of sour milk, butter, broken bread, and strawmeal, hanging over the fire, contained their dinner. This was testimonyenough to the accounts we had heard in Stockholm, of the year's faminein Finland; and we seemed likely to participate in it. I chewed the straw bread vigorously for an hour, and succeeded inswallowing enough to fill my stomach, though not enough to satisfy myhunger. The younger children occupied themselves in peeling off the softinner bark of the fir, which they ate ravenously. They were handsome, fair-skinned youngsters, but not so rosy and beautiful as those of theNorrland Swedes. We were obliged to wait more than two hours before thehorses arrived, thus losing a large part of our daylight. The postilionsfastened our sleds behind their own large sledges, with flat runners, which got through the snow more easily than ours. We lay down in thesledge, stretched ourselves at full length upon a bed of hay, coveredour feet with the deerskin, and set off. We had gone about a Swedishmile when the postilions stopped to feed the horses before a house onthe Russian side. There was nobody within, but some coals among theashes on the hearth showed that it had been used, apparently, as a placeof rest and shelter. A tall, powerful Finn, who was travelling alone, was there, smoking his pipe. We all sat down and did likewise, in thebare, dark hut. There were the three Finns, in complete dresses ofreindeer skin, and ourselves, swaddled from head to foot, with only asmall segment of scarlet face visible between our frosted furs and icybeards. It was a true Arctic picture, as seen by the pale dawn whichglimmered on the wastes of snow outside. We had a poor horse, which soon showed signs of breaking down, especially when we again entered a belt of country where the wind hadblown, the trees were clear, and the track filled up. At half-pasteleven we saw the light of the sun on the tops of the hills, and at noonabout half his disc was visible. The cold was intense; my hands becameso stiff and benumbed that I had great difficulty in preventing themfrom freezing, and my companion's feet almost lost all feeling. It waswell for us that we were frequently obliged to walk, to aid the horse. The country was a wilderness of mournful and dismal scenery--low hillsand woods, stripped bare of snow, the dark firs hung with black, crape-like moss, alternating with morasses. Our Finnish postilions werepleasant, cheerful fellows, who insisted on our riding when there wasthe least prospect of a road. Near a solitary hut (the only one on theroad) we met a man driving a reindeer. After this we lost all signs ofour way, except the almost obliterated track of his pulk. The snow wasdeeper than ever, and our horses were ready to drop at every step. Wehad been five hours on the road; the driver said Kihlangi was "_üxverst_" distant, and at three, finally, we arrived. We appreciatedrather better what we had endured when we found that the temperature was44° below zero. I at once ordered horses, and a strapping young fellow was sent off in abad humor to get them. We found it impossible, however, to procure milkor anything to eat, and as the cold was not to be borne else, we wereobliged to resort to a bottle of cognac and our Haparanda bread. The oldwoman sat by the fire smoking, and gave not the least attention to ourdemands. I paid our postilions in Norwegian _orts_, which they laid upona chair and counted, with the assistance of the whole family. After thereckoning was finished they asked me what the value of each piece was, which gave rise to a second general computation. There was, apparently, more than they had expected, for they both made me a formal address ofthanks, and took my hand. Seeing that I had produced a good effect Irepeated my demand for milk. The old woman refused, but the meninterfered in my behalf; she went out and presently returned with a bowlfull, which she heated for us. By this time our horses had arrived, andone of our new postilions prepared himself for the journey, by strippingto the loins and putting on a clean shirt. He was splendidly built, withclean, firm muscle, a white glossy skin, and no superfluity of flesh. Hethen donned a reindeer of _pösk_, leggings and boots, and we startedagain. It was nearly five o'clock, and superb moonlight. This time they mountedour sleds upon their own sledges, so that we rode much higher thanusual. Our way lay up the Muonio River: the track was entirely snowedup, and we had to break a new one, guided by the fir-trees stuck in theice. The snow was full three feet deep, and whenever the sledge got alittle off the old road, the runners cut in so that we could scarcelymove. The milk and cognac had warmed us tolerably, and we did not suffermuch from the intense cold. My nose, however, had been rubbed raw, and Iwas obliged to tie a handkerchief across my face to protect it. While journeying along in this way, the sledge suddenly tilted over, andwe were flung head foremost into the snow. Our drivers righted thesledge, we shook ourselves and got in again, but had not gone ten yardsbefore the same thing happened again. This was no joke on such a night, but we took it good-humouredly, to the relief of the Finns, who seemedto expect a scolding. Very soon we went over a third time, and then afourth, after which they kept near us and held on when there was anydanger. I became very drowsy, and struggled with all my force to keepawake, for sleeping was too hazardous. Braisted kept his senses abouthim by singing, for our encouragement, the mariner's hymn:-- "Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be. " Thus hour after hour passed away. Fortunately we had good, stronghorses, which walked fast and steadily. The scenery was always thesame--low, wooded hills on either side of the winding, snowy plain ofthe river. We had made up our minds not to reach Parkajoki beforemidnight, but at half-past ten our track left the river, mounted theSwedish bank, and very soon brought us to a quadrangle of low huts, having the appearance of an inn. I could scarcely believe my eyes whenwe stopped before the door. "Is this Parkajoki?" I asked. "_Ja!_"answered the postilion. Braisted and I sprang out instantly, hugged eachother in delight, and rushed into the warm inn. The thermometer stillshowed -44°, and we prided ourselves a little on having travelled forseventeen hours in such a cold with so little food to keep up our animalheat. The landlord, a young man, with a bristly beard of three weeks'growth, showed us into the milk room, where there was a bed of reindeerskins. His wife brought us some fresh hay, a quilt and a sheepskincoverlet, and we soon forgot both our hunger and our frozen blood. In the morning coffee was brought to us, and as nothing else was to behad, we drank four cups apiece. The landlord asked half a _rigs_ (13cents) for our entertainment, and was overcome with gratitude when Igave him double the sum. We had the same sledges as the previous night, but new postilions and excellent horses. The temperature had risen to 5°below zero, with a cloudy sky and a light snow falling. We got off ateight o'clock, found a track partly broken, and went on at a merry trotup the river. We took sometimes one bank and sometimes the other, until, after passing the rapid of Eyanpaika (which was frozen solid, althoughlarge masses of transparent ice lay piled like rocks on either side), wekept the Swedish bank. We were in excellent spirits, in the hope ofreaching Muonioniska before dark, but the steady trot of our horsesbrought us out of the woods by noon, and we saw before us the long, scattering village, a mile or two distant, across the river. To ourleft, on a gentle slope, stood a red, two-story building, surrounded byout-houses, with a few humbler habitations in its vicinity. This wasMuoniovara, on the Swedish side--the end of our Finnish journey. CHAPTER IX. LIFE IN LAPLAND. As we drove up to the red two-story house, a short man with darkwhiskers and a commercial air came forward to meet us. I accosted him inSwedish, asking him whether the house was an inn. He replied in thenegative, adding that the only inn was in Muonioniska, on the Russianside, a mile or more distant. I then asked for the residence of Mr. Wolley, the English naturalist, whose name had been mentioned to me byProf. Retzius and the botanist Hartman. He thereupon called to some oneacross the court, and presently appeared a tall, slender man dressed inthe universal gray suit which travelling Englishmen wear, from theEquator to the Poles. He came up with extended hand, on hearing his ownlanguage; a few words sufficed for explanation, and he devoted himselfto our interests with the cordiality of an old acquaintance. He livedwith the Swede, Herr Forström, who was the merchant of the place; butthe wife of the latter had just been confined, and there was no room inhis house. Mr. Wolley proposed at first to send to the inn inMuonioniska, and engage a room, but afterwards arranged with a Norskcarpenter, who lived on the hill above, to give us quarters in hishouse, so that we might be near enough to take our meals together. Nothing could have suited us better. We took possession at once, andthen descended the hill to a dinner--I had ventured to hint at ourfamished condition--of capercailie, cranberries, soft bread, whippedcream, and a glass of genuine port. Warmed and comforted by such luxurious fare, we climbed the hill to thecarpenter's house, in the dreary Arctic twilight, in the most cheerfuland contented frame of mind. Was this, indeed, Lapland? Did we, indeed, stand already in the dark heart of the polar Winter? Yes; there was nodoubt of it. The imagination could scarcely conceive a more desolatepicture than that upon which we gazed--the plain of sombre snow, beyondwhich the black huts of the village were faintly discernible, thestunted woods and bleak hills, which night and the raw snow clouds hadhalf obscured, and yonder fur-clad figure gliding silently along besidehis reindeer. Yet, even here, where Man seemed to have settled out ofpure spite against Nature, were comfort and hospitality and kindness. Weentered the carpenter's house, lit our candles and pipes, and sat downto enjoy at ease the unusual feeling of shelter and of home. Thebuilding was of squared fir-logs, with black moss stuffed in thecrevices, making it very warm and substantial. Our room contained aloom, two tables, two beds with linen of voluptuous softness andcleanness, an iron stove (the first we had seen in Sweden), and theusual washing apparatus, besides a piece of carpet on the floor. Whatmore could any man desire? The carpenter, Herr Knoblock, spoke someGerman; his son, Ludwig, Mr. Wolley's servant, also looked after ourneeds; and the daughter, a fair, blooming girl of about nineteen, brought us coffee before we were out of bed, and kept our fire in order. Why, Lapland was a very Sybaris in comparison with what I had expected. Mr. Wolley proposed to us another luxury, in the shape of a vapour-bath, as Herr Forström had one of those bathing-houses which are universal inFinland. It was a little wooden building without windows. A Finnishservant-girl who had been for some time engaged in getting it inreadiness, opened the door for us. The interior was very hot and moist, like an Oriental bathing-hall. In the centre was a pile of hot stones, covered with birch boughs, the leaves of which gave out an agreeablesmell, and a large tub of water. The floor was strewn with straw, andunder the roof was a platform extending across one end of the building. This was covered with soft hay, and reached by means of a ladder, forthe purpose of getting the full effect of the steam. Some stools, and abench for our clothes, completed the arrangements. There was also in onecorner a pitcher of water, standing in a little heap of snow to keep itcool. The servant-girl came in after us, and Mr. W. Quietly proceeded toundress, informing us that the girl was bathing-master, and would do theusual scrubbing and shampooing. This, it seems, is the general practicein Finland, and is but another example of the unembarrassed habits ofthe people in this part of the world. The poorer families go into theirbathing-rooms together--father, mother, and children--and take turns inpolishing each other's backs. It would have been ridiculous to haveshown any hesitation under the circumstances--in fact, an indignity tothe honest simple-hearted, virtuous girl--and so we deliberatelyundressed also. When at last we stood, like our first parents inParadise, "naked and not ashamed, " she handed us bunches of birch-twigswith the leaves on, the use of which was suggested by the leaf ofsculpture. We mounted to the platform and lay down upon our backs, whereupon she increased the temperature by throwing water upon the hotstones, until the heat was rather oppressive, and we began to sweatprofusely. She then took up a bunch of birch-twigs which had been dippedin hot water, and switched us smartly from head to foot. When we hadbecome thoroughly parboiled and lax, we descended to the floor, seatedourselves upon the stools, and were scrubbed with soap as thoroughly aspropriety permitted. The girl was an admirable bather, the result oflong practice in the business. She finished by pouring hot water overus, and then drying us with warm towels. The Finns frequently go out androll in the snow during the progress of the bath. I ventured so far asto go out and stand a few seconds in the open air. The mercury was atzero, and the effect of the cold on my heated skin was delightfullyrefreshing. I dressed in a violent perspiration, and then ran across to HerrForström's house, where tea was already waiting for us. Here we foundthe _länsman_ or magistrate of the Russian district opposite, a HerrBràxen, who was decorated with the order of Stanislaus for his servicesin Finland during the recent war. He was a tall, dark-haired man, with arestless light in his deep-set eyes, and a gentleman in his demeanor. Heentered into our plans with interest, and the evening was spent inconsultation concerning them. Finally, it was decided that HerrForström should send a messenger up the river to Palajoki (forty milesoff), to engage Lapps and reindeer to take us across the mountains toKautokeino, in Norway. As the messenger would be absent three or fourdays, we had a comfortable prospect of rest before us, and I went to bedwith a light heart, to wake to the sixth birthday I have passed instrange lands. In the morning, I went with Mr. Wolley to call upon a Finn, one of whosechildren was suffering from inflamed eyes, or snowthalmia, as it mightbe called. The family were prolific, as usual--children of all sizes, with a regular gradation of a year between. The father, a short, shock-headed fellow, sat in one corner; the mother, who, likenine-tenths of all the matrons we had seen between Lapland andStockholm, gave promise of additional humanity, greeted us with acomical, dipping courtesy--a sudden relaxing and stiffening again of themuscles of the knees--which might be introduced as a novelty into ourfashionable circles. The boy's eyes were terribly blood-shot, and thelids swollen, but a solution of nitrate of silver, which Mr. W. Applied, relieved him greatly in the course of a day or two. We took occasion tovisit the stable, where half a dozen cows lay in darkness, in their warmstalls, on one side, with two bulls and some sheep on the other. Therewas a fire in one corner, over which hung a great kettle filled with amixture of boiled hay and reindeer moss. Upon this they are fed, whilethe sheep must content themselves with bunches of birch, willow andaspen twigs, gathered with the leaves on. The hay is strong and coarse, but nourishing, and the reindeer moss, a delicate white lichen, containsa glutinous ingredient, which probably increases the secretion of milk. The stable, as well as Forström's, which we afterwards inspected, waskept in good order. It was floored, with a gutter past each row ofstalls, to carry off the manure. The cows were handsome white animals, in very good condition. Mr. Wolley sent for his reindeer in the course of the morning, in orderto give us a lesson in driving. After lunch, accordingly, we preparedourselves for the new sensation. I put on a poesk of reindeer skin, andmy fur-lined Russian boots. Ludwig took a pulk also, to assist us incase of need. These pulks are shaped very much like a canoe; they areabout five feet long, one foot deep, and eighteen inches wide, with asharp bow and a square stern. You sit upright against the stern-board, with your legs stretched out in the bottom. The deer's harness consistsonly of a collar of reindeer skin around the neck, with a rope at thebottom, which passes under the belly, between the legs, and is fastenedto the bow of the pulk. He is driven by a single rein, attached to thebase of the left horn, and passing over the back to the right hand ofthe driver, who thrusts his thumb into a loop at the end, and takesseveral turns around his wrist. The rein is held rather slack, in orderthat it may be thrown over to the right side when it slips to the left, which it is very apt to do. I seated myself, took proper hold of the rein, and awaited the signal tostart. My deer was a strong, swift animal, who had just shed his horns. Ludwig set off first; my deer gave a startling leap, dashed around thecorner of the house, and made down the hill. I tried to catch the breathwhich had been jerked out of me, and to keep my balance, as the pulk, swaying from side to side, bounced over the snow. It was too late; aswift presentiment of the catastrophe flashed across my mind, but I waspowerless to avert it. In another second I found myself rolling in theloose snow, with the pulk bottom upward beside me. The deer, who wasattached to my arm, was standing still, facing me, with an expression ofstupid surprise (but no sympathy) on his face. I got up, shook myself, righted the pulk, and commenced again. Off we went, like the wind, downthe hill, the snow flying in my face and blinding me. My pulk madetremendous leaps, bounding from side to side, until, the whirlwindsuddenly subsiding, I found myself off the road, deep overhead in thesnow, choked and blinded, and with small snow-drifts in my pockets, sleeves and bosom. My beard and eyebrows became instantly a white, solidmass, and my face began to tingle from its snow-bath; but, on lookingback, I saw as white a beard suddenly emerge from a drift, followed bythe stout body of Braisted, who was gathering himself up after his thirdshipwreck. We took a fresh start, I narrowly missing another overturn, as wedescended the slope below the house, but on reaching the level of theMuonio, I found no difficulty in keeping my balance, and began to enjoythe exercise. My deer struck out, passed the others, and soon I wasalone on the track. In the grey Arctic twilight, gliding noiselessly andswiftly over the snow, with the low huts of Muonioniska dimly seen inthe distance before me, I had my first true experience of Laplandtravelling. It was delightfully novel and exhilarating; I thought of"Afraja, " and the song of "Kulnasatz, my reindeer!" and Bryant's"Arctic Lover, " and whatever else there is of Polar poetry, urged mydeer with shouts, and never once looked behind me until I had climbedthe opposite shore and reached the village. My companions were thennowhere to be seen. I waited some time before they arrived, Braisted'sdeer having become fractious and run back with him to the house. Hiscrimson face shone out from its white frame of icy hair as he shouted tome, "There is nothing equal to this, except riding behind a right whalewhen he drives to windward, with every man trimming the boat, and thespray flying over your bows!" We now turned northward through the village, flying around many sharpcorners, but this I found comparatively easy work. But for the snow Ihad taken in, which now began to melt, I got on finely in spite of thefalling flakes, which beat in our faces. Von Buch, in his journeythrough Lapland in 1807, speaks of Muonioniska as "a village with an innwhere they have silver spoons. " We stopped at a house which Mr. Wolleystated was the very building, but it proved to be a more recentstructure on the site of the old inn. The people looked at us withcuriosity on hearing we were Americans. They had heard the name ofAmerica, but did not seem to know exactly where it was. On leaving thehouse, we had to descend the steep bank of the river. I put out my feetto steady the pulk, and thereby ploughed a cataract of fine snow into myface, completely blinding me. The pulk gave a flying leap from thesteepest pitch, flung me out, and the deer, eager to make for home, dragged me by the arm for about twenty yards before I could arrest him. This was the worst upset of all, and far from pleasant, although thetemperature was only zero. I reached home again without further mishap, flushed, excited, soaked with melted snow, and confident of my abilityto drive reindeer with a little more practice. During the first three days, the weather was raw, dark, and lowering, with a temperature varying from 9° above to 13° below zero. On themorning of the 14th, however, the sky finally cleared, with a cold southwind, and we saw, for the first time, the range of snowy mountains inthe east. The view from our hill, before so dismally bleak and dark, became broad and beautiful, now that there was a little light to see itby. Beyond the snowy floor of the lake and the river Muonio stretchedthe scattering huts of Muonioniska, with the church overlooking them, and the round, white peak of Ollastyntre rising above his belt of blackwoods to the south. Further to the east extended alternate streaks ofdark forest and frozen marsh for eighteen miles, to the foot of themountain range of Palastyntre, which stood like a line of colossalsnow-drifts against the soft violet sky, their sides touched by therosily-golden beams of the invisible sun. This and the valley of theTorneå, at Avasaxa, are two of the finest views in Lapland. I employed part of my time in making some sketches of characteristicfaces. Mr. Wolley, finding that I wished to procure good types of theFinns and Lapps, kindly assisted me--his residence of three years inMuoniovara enabling him to know who were the most marked and peculiarpersonages. Ludwig was despatched to procure an old fellow by the nameof Niemi, a Finn, who promised to comply with my wishes; but hisignorance made him suspicious, and it was necessary to send again. "Iknow what travellers are, " said he, "and what a habit they have ofgetting people's skulls to carry home with them. Even if they arearrested for it, they are so rich, they always buy over the judges. Whoknows but they might try to kill me for the sake of my skull?" Aftermuch persuasion, he was finally induced to come, and, seeing that Ludwigsupposed he was still afraid, he said, with great energy: "I have madeup my mind to go, even if a shower of knives should fall from heaven!"He was seventy-three years old, though he did not appear to be oversixty--his hair being thick and black, his frame erect and sturdy, andhis colour crimson rather than pale. His eyebrows were jet-black andbushy, his eyes large and deep set, his nose strong and prominent, andthe corners of his long mouth drawn down in a settled curve, expressinga melancholy grimness. The high cheek-bones, square brow, and muscularjaw belonged to the true Finnish type. He held perfectly still while Idrew, scarcely moving a muscle of his face, and I succeeded in getting aportrait which everybody recognised. I gave him a piece of money, with which he was greatly delighted; and, after a cup of coffee, in Herr Knoblock's kitchen, he went home quiteproud and satisfied. "They do not at all look like dangerous persons, "said he to the carpenter; "perhaps they do not collect skulls. I wishthey spoke our language, that I might ask them how people live in theircountry. America is a very large, wild place. I know all about it, andthe discovery of it. I was not there myself at the time, but JenisLampi, who lives in Kittila, was one of the crew of the ship, and hetold me how it happened. Jenis Lampi said they were going to throw thecaptain overboard, but he persuaded them to give him three days, and onthe third day they found it. Now I should like to know whether thesepeople, who come from that country, have laws as we have, and whetherthey live as comfortably. " So saying, Isaaki Anderinpoika Niemideparted. No sooner had he gone than the old Lapp woman, Elsa, who had been sentfor, drove up in her pulk, behind a fast reindeer. She was in completeLapp costume--a blue cloth gown with wide sleeves, trimmed with scarlet, and a curious pear-shaped cap of the same material, upon her head. Shesat upon the floor, on a deerskin, and employed herself in twistingreindeer sinews, which she rolled upon her cheek with the palm of herhand, while I was sketching her. It was already dark, and I was obligedto work by candle light, but I succeeded in catching the half-insane, witch-like expression of her face. When I took the candle to examine herfeatures more closely, she cried out, "Look at me, O son of man!" Shesaid that I had great powers, and was capable of doing everything, sinceI had come so far, and could make an image of her upon paper. She askedwhether we were married, saying we could hardly travel so much if wewere; yet she thought it much better to be married and stay at home. Igave her a rigsdaler, which she took with joyful surprise, saying, "What! am I to get my coffee and tobacco, and be paid too? Thanks, O sonof man, for your great goodness!" She chuckled very much over thedrawing, saying that the dress was exactly right. In the afternoon we took another reindeer drive to Muonioniska, paying avisit to Pastor Fali, the clergyman whom we had met at Forström's. Thistime I succeeded very well, making the trip without a single overturn, though with several mishaps. Mr. Wolley lost the way, and we drove aboutat random for some time. My deer became restive, and whirled me aroundin the snow, filling my pulk. It was so dark that we could scarcely see, and, without knowing the ground, one could not tell where the ups anddown were. The pastor received us courteously, treated us to coffee andpipes, and conversed with us for some time. He had not, as he said, aSwedish tongue, and I found it difficult to understand him. On our wayback, Braisted's and Ludwig's deers ran together with mine, and, whilegoing at full speed, B. 's jumped into my pulk. I tried in vain either tostop or drive on faster; he trampled me so violently that I was obligedto throw myself out to escape his hoofs. Fortunately the animals are notheavy enough to do any serious harm. We reached Forström's in season fora dinner of fat reindeer steak, cranberries, and a confect of the Arcticraspberry. After an absence of three days Salomon, the messenger who had been sentup the river to engage reindeer for us, returned, having gone sixtymiles before he could procure them. He engaged seven, which arrived thenext evening, in the charge of a tall, handsome Finn, who was to be ourconductor. We had, in the meantime, supplied ourselves with reindeer_poesks_, such as the Lapps wear, --our own furs being impracticable forpulk travelling--reindeer mittens, and boas of squirrel tails strung onreindeer sinews. The carpenter's second son, Anton, a lad of fifteen, was engaged to accompany us as an interpreter. CHAPTER X. A REINDEER JOURNEY ACROSS LAPLAND. We left Muoniovara at noon on the 15th, fully prepared for a three days'journey across the wilds of Lapland. We were about to traverse thebarren, elevated table-land, which divides the waters of the BothnianGulf from those of the Northern Ocean, --a dreary, unfriendly region, inhabited only by a few wandering Lapps. Even without the prevalence offamine, we should have had difficulty in procuring food from them, so wesupplied ourselves with a saddle of reindeer, six loaves of rye bread, sugar, and a can of coffee. The carpenter lent us a cup and saucer, andAnton, who felt all the responsibility of a boy who is employed for thefirst time, stowed everything away nicely in the broad baggage pulk. Wefound it impossible to procure Lapp leggings and shoes at Muoniovara, but our Russian boots proved an admirable substitute. The _poesk_ ofreindeer skin is the warmest covering for the body which could bedevised. It is drawn over the head like a shirt, fitting closely aroundthe neck and wrists, where it is generally trimmed with ermine, andreaching half-way below the knee. A thick woollen sash, wrapped firstaround the neck, the ends then twisted together down to the waist, where they are passed tightly around the body and tied in front, notonly increases the warmth and convenience of the garment, but gives it ahighly picturesque air. Our sea-otter caps, turned down so as to coverthe ears and forehead, were fastened upon our heads with crimsonhandkerchiefs, and our boas, of black and red squirrel tails, passedthrice around the neck, reached to the tips of our noses. Over ourdog-skin mittens we drew gauntlets of reindeer skin, with which it wasdifficult to pick up or take hold of anything; but as the deer's rein istwisted around one's wrist, their clumsiness does not interfere with thefacility of driving. It would seem impossible for even Arctic cold topenetrate through such defences--and yet it did. Herr Forström prepared us for the journey by a good breakfast ofreindeer's marrow, a justly celebrated Lapland delicacy, and we set outwith a splendidly clear sky and a cold of 12° below zero. The Muoniovalley was superb, towards sunrise, with a pale, creamy, saffron lighton the snow, the forests on the tops of the hills burning like jaggedmasses of rough opal, and the distant range of Palastyntre bathed inpink light, with pure sapphire shadows on its northern slopes. TheseArctic illuminations are transcendent; nothing can equal them, andneither pen nor pencil can describe them. We passed through Muonioniska, and kept up the Russian side, over an undulating, wooded country. Theroad was quite good, but my deer, in spite of his size and apparentstrength, was a lazy beast, and gave me much trouble. I was obliged toget out of the pulk frequently and punch him in the flanks, taking mychance to tumble in headlong as he sprang forward again. I soon becamedisgusted with reindeer travelling, especially when, after we had beenon the road two hours and it was nearly dark, we reached UpperMuonioniska, only eight miles. We there took the river again, and madebetter progress to Kyrkessuando, the first station, where we stopped anhour to feed the deer. Here there was a very good little inn, with a bedfor travellers. We had seven reindeer, two of which ran loose, so that we could changeoccasionally on the road. I insisted on changing mine at once, andreceived in return a smaller animal, which made up in spirit what helacked in strength. Our conductor was a tall, handsome Finn, with blueeyes and a bright, rosy complexion. His name was Isaac, but he wasbetter known by his nickname of _Pitka Isaaki_, or Long Isaac. He was aslow, good-humoured, prudent, careful fellow, and probably served ourpurpose as well as anybody we could have found. Anton, however, who madehis first journey with us, was invaluable. His father had somemisgivings on account of his timidity, but he was so ambitious to givesatisfaction that we found him forward enough. I have already described the country through which we passed, as it wasmerely a continuation of the scenery below Muonioniska--low, woodedhills, white plains, and everywhere snow, snow, snow, silence and death. The cold increased to 33° below zero, obliging me to bury my nose in myboa and to keep up a vigorous exercise of my toes to prevent them fromfreezing, as it is impossible to cover one's boots in a pulk. The nightwas calm, clear, and starry; but after an hour a bank of auroral lightgradually arose in the north, and formed a broad arch, which threw itslustre over the snow and lighted up our path. Almost stationary atfirst, a restless motion after a time agitated the gleaming bow; it shotout broad streamers of yellow fire, gathered them in and launched themforth again, like the hammer of Thor, which always returned to his hand, after striking the blow for which it had been hurled. The most wonderfulappearance, however, was an immense square curtain, which fell from allthe central part of the arch. The celestial scene-shifters were ratherclumsy, for they allowed one end to fall lower than the other, so thatit over-lapped and doubled back upon itself in a broad fold. Here ithung for probably half an hour, slowly swinging to and fro, as if movedby a gentle wind. What new spectacle was in secret preparation behind itwe did not learn, for it was hauled up so bunglingly that the whole archbroke and fell in, leaving merely a pile of luminous ruins under thePolar Star. Hungry and nearly frozen, we reached Palajoki at half-past nine, andwere at once ushered into the guests' room, a little hut separated fromthe main building. Here, barring an inch of ice on the windows andnumerous windy cracks in the floor, we felt a little comfort before animmense fire kindled in the open chimney. Our provisions were alreadyadamantine; the meat was transformed into red Finland granite, and thebread into mica-slate. Anton and the old Finnish landlady, the mother ofmany sons, immediately commenced the work of thawing and cooking, whileI, by the light of fir torches, took the portrait of a dark-haired, black-eyed, olive-skinned, big-nosed, thick-lipped youth, who gave hisname as Eric Johan Sombasi. When our meal of meat, bread, and coffeehad been despatched, the old woman made a bed of reindeer skins for usin one corner, covered with a coarse sheet, a quilt, and a sheepskinblanket. She then took her station near the door, where several of thesons were already standing, and all appeared to be waiting in silentcuriosity to see us retire. We undressed with genuine Finnish freedom ofmanner, deliberately enough for them to understand the peculiarities ofour apparel, and they never took their eyes from us until we were stowedaway for the night in our warm nest. It was snowing and blowing when we arose. Long Isaac had gone to thewoods after the reindeer, and we employed the delay in making abreakfast off the leavings of our supper. Crossing the Muonio atstarting, we entered the Russian territory and drove up the bed of thePalajok, a tributary stream which comes down from the north. The skybecame clearer as the dawn increased; the road was tolerably broken, andwe sped merrily along the windings of the river, under its tall banksfringed with fir trees, which, loaded with snow, shone brilliantly whiteagainst the rosy sky. The temperature was 8° below zero, which feltunpleasantly warm, by contrast with the previous evening. After a time we left the river and entered a rolling upland--alternatethickets of fir and birch, and wastes of frozen marsh, where our pathwas almost obliterated. After more than two hours' travel we came upon alarge lake, at the further end of which, on the southern side of a hill, was the little hamlet of Suontajärvi. Here we stopped to bait the deer, Braisted's and mine being nearly fagged out. We entered one of the huts, where a pleasant woman was taking charge of a year-old baby. There wasno fire on the hearth, and the wind whistled through the open cracks ofthe floor. Long Isaac and the woman saluted each other by placing theirright arms around each other's waists, which is the universal manner ofgreeting in Finland. They only shake hands as a token of thanks for afavour. We started again at noon, taking our way across a wilderness of lakesand snow-covered marshes, dotted with stunted birch-thickets. The roadhad entirely disappeared, but Eric of Palajoki, who accompanied us as anextra guide, went ahead with a strong reindeer and piloted us. Thesagacity with which these animals find the track under a smooth coveringof loose snow, is wonderful. They follow it by the feet, of course, butwith the utmost ease and rapidity, often while going at full speed. Iwas struck by the sinuous, mazy character of our course, even where theground was level, and could only account for it by the supposition thatthe first track over the light snow had followed the smoothest andfirmest ridges of the marshes. Our progress was now slow and toilsome, and it was not long before my deer gave up entirely. Long Isaac, seeingthat a change must be made, finally decided to give me a wild, powerfulanimal, which he had not yet ventured to intrust to either of us. The deer was harnessed to my pulk, the rein carefully secured around mywrist, and Long Isaac let go his hold. A wicked toss of the antlers anda prodigious jump followed, and the animal rushed full tilt uponBraisted, who was next before me, striking him violently upon the back. The more I endeavored to rein him in, the more he plunged and tore, nowdashing against the led deer, now hurling me over the baggage pulk, andnow leaping off the track into bottomless beds of loose snow. Long Isaacat last shouted to me to go ahead and follow Eric, who was about half amile in advance. A few furious plunges carried me past our littlecaravan, with my pulk full of snow, and my face likewise. Now, loweringhis neck and thrusting out his head, with open mouth and glaring eyes, the deer set off at the top of his speed. Away I went, like a lance shot out from the auroral armoury; the pulkslid over the snow with the swiftness of a fish through the water; atorrent of snow-spray poured into my lap and showered against my face, until I was completely blinded. Eric was overtaken so quickly that hehad no time to give me the track, and as I was not in a condition to seeor hear anything, the deer, with the stupidity of his race, sprangdirectly upon him, trampled him down, and dragged me and my pulk overhim. We came to a stand in the deep snow, while Eric shook himself andstarted again. My deer now turned and made for the caravan, but Isucceeded in pulling his head around, when he charged a second time uponEric, who threw himself out of his pulk to escape. My strength was fastgiving way, when we came to a ridge of deep, loose snow, in which theanimals sank above their bellies, and up which they could hardly dragus. My deer was so exhausted when we reached the top, that I had nofurther difficulty in controlling him. Before us stretched a trackless plain, bounded by a low mountain ridge. Eric set off at a fast trot, winding hither and thither, as his deerfollowed the invisible path. I kept close behind him, white as a Polarbear, but glowing like a volcano under my furs. The temperature was 10°below zero, and I could have wished it ten degrees colder. My deer, although his first savage strength was spent, was still full of spirit, and I began to enjoy this mode of travel. We soon entered the hills, which were covered with thickets of frozen birch, with here and there atall Scotch fir, completely robed in snow. The sun, which had showedabout half his disc at noon, was now dipping under the horizon, and apure orange glow lighted up the dazzling masses of the crystal woods. All was silver-clear, far and near, shining, as if by its own light, with an indescribable radiance. We had struck upon a well-beaten trackon entering the hills, and flew swiftly along through this silentsplendour, this jewelled solitude, under the crimson and violet mode ofthe sky. Here was true Northern romance; here was poetry beyond all theSagas and Eddas that ever were written. We passed three Lapps, with heavy hay-sleds, drawn by a reindeer apiece, and after a time issued from the woods upon a range of hills entirelybare and white. Before us was the miserable hamlet of Lappajärvi, on thewestern side of the barren mountain of Lippavara, which is the highestin this part of Lapland, having an altitude of 1900 feet above the sea. I have rarely seen anything quite so bleak and God-forsaken as thisvillage. A few low black huts, in a desert of snow--that was all. Wedrove up to a sort of station-house, where an old, white-headed Finnreceived me kindly, beat the snow off my poesk with a birch broom, andhung my boa near the fire to dry. There was a wild, fierce-looking Lappin the room, who spoke some Norwegian, and at once asked who and what Iwas. His head was covered with a mop of bright brown hair, his eyes weredark blue and gleamed like polished steel, and the flushed crimson ofhis face was set off by the strong bristles of a beard of three weeksgrowth. There was something savage and ferocious in his air, as he satwith his clenched fists planted upon his knees, and a heavy knife in awooden scabbard hanging from his belt. When our caravan arrived Itransferred him to my sketch-book. He gave me his name as Ole OlsenThore, and I found he was a character well known throughout the country. Long Isaac proposed waiting until midnight, for moon-rise, as it wasalready dark, and there was no track beyond Lippajärvi. This seemedprudent, and we therefore, with the old woman's help, set about boilingour meat, thawing bread, and making coffee. It was necessary to eat evenbeyond what appetite demanded, on account of the long distances betweenthe stations. Drowsiness followed repletion, as a matter of course, andthey gave us a bed of skins in an inner-room. Here, however, some othermembers of the family were gathered around the fire, and kept up anincessant chattering, while a young married couple, who lay in onecorner, bestowed their endearments on each other, so that we had butlittle benefit of our rest. At midnight all was ready, and we set out. Long Isaac had engaged a guide, and procured fresh deer in place ofthose which were fatigued. There was a thick fog, which the moonscarcely brightened, but the temperature had risen to zero, and was asmild as a May morning. For the first time in many days our beards didnot freeze. We pursued our way in complete silence. Our little caravan, in singlefile, presented a strange, shadowy, mysterious appearance as it followedthe winding path, dimly seen through the mist, first on this side andthen on that; not a sound being heard, except the crunching of one's ownpulk over the snow. My reindeer and myself seemed to be the only livingthings, and we were pursuing the phantoms of other travellers and otherdeer, who had long ago perished in the wilderness. It was impossible tosee more than a hundred yards; some short, stunted birches, in theirspectral coating of snow, grew along the low ridges of the deep, loosesnow, which separated the marshes, but nothing else interrupted themonotony of the endless grey ocean, through which we went floundering, apparently at haphazard. How our guides found the way was beyond mycomprehension, for I could discover no distinguishable landmarks. Aftertwo hours or more we struck upon a cluster of huts called Palajärvi, seven miles from Lippajärvi, which proved that we were on the righttrack. The fog now became thicker than ever. We were upon the water-shedbetween the Bothnian Gulf and the Northern Ocean, about 1400 feet abovethe sea. The birches became mere shrubs, dotting the low mounds whichhere and there arose out of the ocean of snow. The pulks all ran in thesame track and made a single furrow, so that our gunwales were generallybelow the sea-level. The snow was packed so tight, however, that werarely shipped any. Two hours passed, and I was at length roused from ahalf-sleep by the evidence of our having lost the way. Long Isaac andthe guide stopped and consulted every few minutes, striking sometimesin one direction and sometimes in another, but without any result. Weran over ridges of heavy, hard tussocks, blown bare of snow, whichpitched our pulks right and left, just as I have bumped over the coralreefs of Loo-Choo in a ship's cutter. Then followed deep beds ofsnow-drifts, which tasked the utmost strength of our deer, low birchthickets and hard ridges again, over which we plunged in the wildest waypossible. After wandering about for a considerable time, we suddenly heard thebarking of a dog at some distance on our left. Following the welcomesound, we reached a scrubby ridge, where we were saluted with a wholechorus of dogs, and soon saw the dark cone of a Lapp tent. Long Isaacaroused the inmates, and the shrill cry of a baby proclaimed that therewas life and love, even here. Presently a clumsy form, enveloped inskins, waddled out, and entered into conversation with our men. Iproposed at once to engage a Lapp to guide us as far as Eitajärvi, whichthey informed us was two Norwegian (fourteen English) miles farther. Theman agreed, but must first go off to the woods for his deer, which woulddetain us two hours. He put on his snow-skates and started, and I setabout turning the delay to profit by making acquaintance with theinmates of the tents. We had now reached the middle of the village; thelean, wolfish dogs were yelling on all sides, and the people began tobestir themselves. Streams of sparks issued from the open tops of thetents, and very soon we stood as if in the midst of a group of volcaniccones. The Lapps readily gave us permission to enter. We lifted the hangingdoor of reindeer hide, crept in, stumbling over a confused mixture ofdogs and deerskins, until we found room to sit down. Two middle-agedwomen, dressed in poesks, like the men, were kindling a fire betweensome large stones in the centre, but the air inside was still as cold asoutside. The damp birch sticks gave out a thick smoke, which almoststifled us, and for half an hour we could scarcely see or breathe. Thewomen did not appear to be incommoded in the least, but I noticed thattheir eyes were considerably inflamed. After a time our company wasincreased by the arrival of two stout, ruddy girls of about seventeen, and a child of two years old, which already wore a complete reindeercostume. They were all very friendly and hospitable in their demeanourtowards us, for conversation was scarcely possible. The interior of thetent was hung with choice bits of deer's hide, from the inside of theflanks and shoulders, designed, apparently, for mittens. Long Isaac atonce commenced bargaining for some of them, which he finally purchased. The money was deposited in a rather heavy bag of coin, which one of thewomen drew forth from under a pile of skins. Our caps and Russian bootsexcited their curiosity, and they examined them with the greatestminuteness. These women were neither remarkably small nor remarkably ugly, as theLapps are generally represented. The ground-tone of their complexion wasrather tawny, to be sure, but there was a glowing red on their cheeks, and their eyes were a dark bluish-grey. Their voices were agreeable, andthe language (a branch of the Finnish) had none of that barbaricharshness common to the tongues of nomadic tribes. These favorablefeatures, nevertheless, were far from reconciling me to the idea of atrial of Lapp life. When I saw the filth, the poverty, and discomfort inwhich they lived, I decided that the present experience wasall-sufficient. Roasting on one side and freezing on the other, withsmarting eyes and asphyxiated lungs, I soon forgot whatever there was ofthe picturesque in my situation, and thought only of the return of ourLapp guide. The women at last cleared away several dogs, and made roomfor us to lie down--a more tolerable position, in our case; though how awhole family, with innumerable dogs, stow themselves in the compass of acircle eight feet in diameter, still remains a mystery. The Lapp returned with his reindeer within the allotted time, and wetook our leave of the encampment. A strong south wind had arisen, butdid not dissipate the fog, and for two hours we had a renewal of ourpast experiences, in thumping over hard ridges and ploughing throughseas of snow. Our track was singularly devious, sometimes doublingdirectly back upon itself without any apparent cause. At last, when afaint presentiment of dawn began to glimmer through the fog, the Lapphalted and announced that he had lost the way. Bidding us remain wherewe were, he struck off into the snow and was soon lost to sight. Scarcely a quarter of an hour had elapsed, however, before we heard hiscries at a considerable distance. Following, as we best could, across aplain nearly a mile in diameter, we found him at last in a narrow dellbetween two hills. The ground now sloped rapidly northward, and I sawthat we had crossed the water-shed, and that the plain behind us must bethe lake Jedeckejaure, which, according to Von Buch, is 1370 feet abovethe sea. On emerging from the dell we found a gentle slope before us, coveredwith hard ice, down which our pulks flew like the wind. This brought usto another lake, followed by a similar slope, and so we descended theicy terraces, until, in a little more than an hour, some coveredhaystacks gave evidence of human habitation, and we drew up at the hutsof Eitajärvi, in Norway. An old man, who had been watching our approach, immediately climbed upon the roof and removed a board from the chimney, after which he ushered us into a bare, cold room, and kindled a roaringfire on the hearth. Anton unpacked our provisions, and our hunger was sodesperate, after fasting for twenty hours, that we could scarcely waitfor the bread to thaw and the coffee to boil. We set out again at noon, down the frozen bed of a stream which drains the lakes, but had notproceeded far before both deers and pulks began to break through theice, probably on account of springs under it. After being almostswamped, we managed to get up the steep snow-bank and took to the plainagain, making our own road over ridge and through hollow. The caravanwas soon stopped, that the pulks might be turned bottom upwards and theice scraped off, which, like the barnacles on a ship's hull, impededtheir progress through the snow. The broad plain we were traversingstretched away to the north without a break or spot of color to relieveits ghastly whiteness; but toward the south-west, where the sunset of anunrisen sun spread its roseate glow through the mist, arose some lowmounds, covered with drooping birches, which shone against the soft, mellow splendor, like sprays of silver embroidered on rose-coloredsatin. Our course, for about fifteen miles, lay alternately upon the stream(where the ice was sufficiently strong) and the wild plain. Two or threeLapp tents on the bank exhibited the usual amount of children and dogs, but we did not think it worth while to extend the circle of ouracquaintance in that direction. At five o'clock, after it had long beendark, we reached half a dozen huts called Siepe, two Norwegian milesfrom Kautokeino. Long Isaac wished to stop here for the night, but weresolutely set ourselves against him. The principal hut was filthy, crowded with Lapps, and filled with a disagreeable smell from the warm, wet poesks hanging on the rafters. In one corner lay the carcases of twodeer-calves which had been killed by wolves. A long bench, a table, anda rude frame covered with deerskins, and serving as a bed, comprised allthe furniture. The usual buckets of sour milk, with wooden ladles, stoodby the door. No one appeared to have any particular occupation, if weexcept the host's wife, who was engaged with an infant in reindeerbreeches. We smoked and deliberated while the deers ate their balls ofmoss, and the result was, that a stout yellow-haired Lapp youngster wasengaged to pilot us to Kautokeino. Siepe stands on a steep bank, down which our track led to the streamagain. As the caravan set off, my deer, which had behaved very wellthrough the day, suddenly became fractious, sprang off the track, whirled himself around on his hind legs, as if on a pivot, and turnedthe pulk completely over, burying me in the snow. Now, I had come fromMuoniovara, more than a hundred miles, without being once overturned, and was ambitious to make the whole journey with equal success. Itherefore picked myself up, highly disconcerted, and started afresh. Thevery same thing happened a second and a third time, and I don't think Ishall be considered unreasonable for becoming furiously angry. I shouldcertainly have committed cervicide had any weapon been at hand. I seizedthe animal by the horns, shook, cuffed, and kicked him, but all to nopurpose. Long Isaac, who was passing in his pulk, made some remark, which Anton, with all the gravity and conscientiousness of his newposition of interpreter, immediately translated. "Long Isaac says, " he shouted, "that the deer will go well enough, ifyou knew how to drive him. " "Long Isaac may go to the devil!" was, I amsorry to say, my profane reply, which Anton at once translated to him. Seating myself in the pulk again, I gave the deer the rein, and for atime kept him to the top of his speed, following the Lapp, who droverapidly down the windings of the stream. It was quite dark, but our roadwas now somewhat broken, and for three hours our caravan swiftly andsilently sped on its way. Then, some scattered lights appeared in thedistance; our tired deers leaped forward with fresher spirit, and soonbrought us to the low wooden huts of Kautokeino. We had travelledupwards of sixty miles since leaving Lippajärvi, breaking our own roadthrough deep snow for a great part of the way. During this time ourdeers had not been changed. I cannot but respect the provoking animalsafter such a feat. CHAPTER XI. KAUTOKEINO. --A DAY WITHOUT A SUN. While in Dresden, my friend Ziegler had transferred to me a letter ofintroduction from Herr Berger, a merchant of Hammerfest, to hishousekeeper in Kautokeino. Such a transfer might be considered a greatstretch of etiquette in those enlightened regions of the world wherehospitality requires certificates of character; but, in a benightedcountry like Lapland, there was no danger of very fine distinctionsbeing drawn, and Ziegler judged that the house which was to have beenplaced at his disposal had he made the journey, would as readily openits doors to me. At Muoniovara, I learned that Berger himself was now inKautokeino, so that I needed only to present him with his own letter. Wearrived so late, however, that I directed Long Isaac to take us to theinn until morning. He seemed reluctant to do this, and I could notfathom the reason of his hesitation, until I had entered the hovel towhich we were conducted. A single room, filled with smoke from a fire ofdamp birch sticks, was crammed with Lapps of all sizes, and of bothsexes. There was scarcely room to spread a deerskin on the floor whilethe smell exhaled from their greasy garments and their unwashed bodieswas absolutely stifling. I have travelled too much to be particularlynice in my choice of lodgings, but in this instance I instantlyretreated, determined to lie on the snow, under my overturned pulk, rather than pass the night among such bed-fellows. We drove on for a short distance, and drew up before a large, substantial log-house, which Long Isaac informed me was the residence ofthe _Länsman_, or magistrate of the district. I knocked at the door, andinquired of the Norwegian servant girl who opened it, where Herr Bergerlived. Presently appeared a stout, ruddy gentleman--no less than HerrBerger himself--who addressed me in fluent English. A few words sufficedto explain everything, and in ten minutes our effects were deposited inthe guest's room of the Länsman's house, and ourselves, stripped of ourPolar hides, were seated on a sofa, in a warm, carpeted room, with abountiful supper-table before us. Blessed be civilisation! was my inwardejaculation. Blessed be that yearning for comfort in Man, which has ledto the invention of beds, of sofas, and easy chairs: which has suggestedcleanliness of body and of habitation, and which has developed the nobleart of cooking! The dreary and perilous wastes over which we had passedwere forgotten. With hearts warmed in both senses, and stomachs whichreacted gratefully upon our hearts, we sank that night into a paradiseof snowy linen, which sent a consciousness of pleasure even into theoblivion of sleep. The Länsman, Herr Lie, a tall handsome man of twenty-three, was a nativeof Altengaard, and spoke tolerable English. With him and Herr Berger, wefound a third person, a theological student, stationed at Kautokeino tolearn the Lapp tongue. Pastor Hvoslef, the clergyman, was the only otherNorwegian resident. The village, separated from the Northern Ocean, bythe barren, uninhabited ranges of the Kiölen Mountains, and from theFinnish settlements on the Muonio by the swampy table-lands we hadtraversed, is one of the wildest and most forlorn places in all Lapland. Occupying, as it does, the centre of a large district, over which theLapps range with their reindeer herds during the summer, it isnevertheless a place of some importance, both for trade and for theeducation, organization, and proper control of the barely-reclaimedinhabitants. A church was first built here by Charles XI. Of Sweden, in1660, although, in the course of subsequent boundary adjustments, thedistrict was made over to Norway. Half a century afterwards, somefamilies of Finns settled here; but they appear to have gradually mixedwith the Lapps, so that there is little of the pure blood of either raceto be found at present. I should here remark that throughout NorwegianLapland the Lapps are universally called _Finns_, and the Finns, _Quäns_. As the change of names, however, might occasion some confusion, I shall adhere to the more correct Swedish manner of designating them, which I have used hitherto. Kautokeino is situated in a shallow valley, or rather basin, openingtowards the north-east, whither its river flows to join the Alten. Although only 835 feet above the sea, and consequently below the limitsof the birch and the fir in this latitude, the country has been strippedentirely bare for miles around, and nothing but the scattering groups oflow, dark huts, breaks the snowy monotony. It is with great difficultythat vegetables of any kind can be raised. Potatoes have once or twicebeen made to yield eight-fold, but they are generally killed by theearly autumn frosts before maturity. On the southern bank of the river, the ground remains frozen the whole year round, at a depth of only ninefeet. The country furnishes nothing except reindeer meat, milk, andcheese. Grain, and other supplies of all kinds, must be hauled up fromthe Alten Fjord, a distance of 112 miles. The carriage is usuallyperformed in winter, when, of course, everything reaches its destinationin a frozen state. The potatoes are as hard as quartz pebbles, sugar andsalt become stony masses, and even wine assumes a solid form. In thisstate they are kept until wanted for use, rapidly thawed, andimmediately consumed, whereby their flavour is but little impaired. Thepotatoes, cabbage, and preserved berries on the Länsman's table werealmost as fresh as if they had never been frozen. Formerly, the place was almost entirely deserted during the summermonths, and the resident missionary and Länsman returned to Alten untilthe Lapps came back to their winter huts; but, for some years past, thestationary population has increased, and the church is kept open thewhole year. Winter, however, is the season when the Lapps are found athome, and when their life and habits are most characteristic andinteresting. The population of Kautokeino is then, perhaps, about 800;in summer it is scarcely one-tenth of this number. Many of thefamilies--especially those of mixed Finnish blood--live in wooden huts, with the luxury of a fireplace and chimney, and a window or two; butthe greater part of them burrow in low habitations of earth, whichresemble large mole hills raised in the crust of the soil. Half snowedover and blended with the natural inequalities of the earth, one wouldnever imagine, but for the smoke here and there issuing from holes, thathuman beings existed below. On both sides of the stream are rows ofstorehouses, wherein the Lapps deposit their supplies and householdarticles during their summer wanderings. These structures are raisedupon birch posts, each capped with a smooth, horizontal board, in orderto prevent the rats and mice from effecting an entrance. The church isbuilt upon a slight eminence to the south, with its low red belfrystanding apart, as in Sweden, in a small grove of birches, which havebeen spared for a summer ornament to the sanctuary. We awoke at eight o'clock to find a clear twilight and a cold of 10°below zero. Our stay at Muoniovara had given the sun time to increasehis altitude somewhat, and I had some doubts whether we should succeedin beholding a day of the Polar winter. The Länsman, however, encouragedus by the assurance that the sun had not yet risen upon his residence, though nearly six weeks had elapsed since his disappearance, but thathis return was now looked for every day, since he had already begun toshine upon the northern hills. By ten o'clock it was light enough toread; the southern sky was a broad sea of golden orange, dotted with afew crimson cloud-islands, and we set ourselves to watch with someanxiety the gradual approach of the exiled god. But for thiscircumstance, and two other drawbacks, I should have gone to church towitness the Lapps at their religious exercises. Pastor Hvoslef was ill, and the service consisted only of the reading of some prayers by theLapp schoolmaster; added to which, the church is never warmed, even inthe coldest days of winter. One cause of this may, perhaps, be the dreadof an accidental conflagration; but the main reason is, theinconvenience which would arise from the thawing out of so manyantiquated reindeer garments, and the effluvia given out by the warmedbodies within them. Consequently, the temperature inside the church isabout the same as outside, and the frozen moisture of the worshippers'breath forms a frosty cloud so dense as sometimes to hide the clergymanfrom the view of his congregation. Pastor Hvoslef informed me that hehad frequently preached in a temperature of 35° below zero. "At suchtimes, " said he, "the very words seem to freeze as they issue from mylips, and fall upon the heads of my hearers like a shower of snow. ""But, " I ventured to remark, "our souls are controlled to such a degreeby the condition of our bodies, that I should doubt whether any truedevotional spirit could exist at such a time. Might not even religionitself be frozen?" "Yes, " he answered, "there is no doubt that all thebetter feelings either disappear, or become very faint, when the mercurybegins to freeze. " The pastor himself was at that time suffering thepenalty of indulging a spirit of reverence which for a long time led himto officiate with uncovered head. The sky increased in brightness as we watched. The orange flushed intorose, and the pale white hills looked even more ghastly against the barof glowing carmine which fringed the horizon. A few long purple streaksof cloud hung over the sun's place, and higher up in the vault floatedsome loose masses, tinged with fiery crimson on their lower edges. About half-past eleven, a pencil of bright red light shot up--a signalwhich the sun uplifted to herald his coming. As it slowly moved westwardalong the hills, increasing in height and brilliancy until it became along tongue of flame, playing against the streaks of cloud we wereapprehensive that the near disc would rise to view. When the Länsman'sclock pointed to twelve, its base had become so bright as to shinealmost like the sun itself; but after a few breathless moments theunwelcome glow began to fade. We took its bearing with a compass, andafter making allowance for the variation (which is here very slight)were convinced that it was really past meridian, and the radiance, whichwas that of morning a few minutes before, belonged to the splendours ofevening now. The colours of the firmament began to change in reverseorder, and the dawn, which had almost ripened to sunrise, now witheredaway to night without a sunset. We had at last seen a day without a sun. The snowy hills to the north, it is true, were tinged with a flood ofrosy flame, and the very next day would probably bring down thetide-mark of sunshine to the tops of the houses. One day, however, wasenough to satisfy me. You, my heroic friend, [A] may paint with truepencil, and still truer pen, the dreary solemnity of the long Arcticnight: but, greatly as I enjoy your incomparable pictures, much as Ihonour your courage and your endurance, you shall never tempt me toshare in the experience. The South is a cup which one may drink toinebriation; but one taste from the icy goblet of the North is enough toallay curiosity and quench all further desire. Yet the contrast betweenthese two extremes came home to me vividly but once during this journey. A traveller's mind must never stray too far from the things about him, and long habit has enabled me to throw myself entirely into theconditions and circumstances of each separate phase of my wanderinglife, thereby preserving distinct the sensations and experiences ofeach, and preventing all later confusion in the memory. But one day, atMuoniovara, as I sat before the fire in the afternoon darkness, thereflashed across my mind a vision of cloudless Egypt--trees rustling inthe hot wind, yellow mountain-walls rising beyond the emerald plain ofthe Nile, the white pencils of minarets in the distance, the creamyodour of bean-blossoms in the air--a world of glorious vitality, whereDeath seemed an unaccountable accident. Here, Life existed only onsufferance, and all Nature frowned with a robber's demand to give it up. I flung my pipe across the room and very soon, behind a fast reindeer, drove away from the disturbing reminiscence. I went across the valley to the schoolmaster's house to make a sketch ofKautokeino, but the frost was so thick on the windows that I was obligedto take a chair in the open air and work with bare hands. I soon learnedthe value of rapidity in such an employment. We spent the afternoon inthe Länsman's parlor, occasionally interrupted by the visits of Lapps, who, having heard of our arrival, were very curious to behold the firstAmericans who ever reached this part of the world. They came into theroom with the most perfect freedom, saluted the Länsman, and then turnedto stare at us until they were satisfied, when they retired to giveplace to others who were waiting outside. We were obliged to hold quitea levee during the whole evening. They had all heard of America, butknew very little else about it, and many of them questioned us, throughHerr Berger, concerning our religion and laws. The fact of the threeNorwegian residents being able to converse with us astonished themgreatly. The Lapps of Kautokeino have hitherto exalted themselves overthe Lapps of Karasjok and Karessuando, because the Länsman, Berger, andPastor Hvoslef could speak with English and French travellers in theirown language, while the merchants and pastors of the latter places areacquainted only with Norwegian and Swedish; and now their pride receiveda vast accession. "How is it possible?" said they to Herr Berger, "thesemen come from the other side of the world, and you talk with them asfast in their own language as if you had never spoken any other!" Theschoolmaster, Lars Kaino, a one-armed fellow, with a more than ordinaryshare of acuteness and intelligence, came to request that I would takehis portrait, offering to pay me for my trouble. I agreed to do itgratuitously, on condition that I should keep it myself, and that heshould bring his wife to be included in the sketch. He assented, with some sacrifice of vanity, and came around the nextmorning, in his holiday suit of blue cloth, trimmed with scarlet andyellow binding. His wife, a short woman of about twenty-five, with aface as flat and round as a platter, but a remarkably fair complexion, accompanied him, though with evident reluctance, and sat with eyesmodestly cast down while I sketched her features. The circumstance of mygiving Lars half a dollar at the close of the sitting was immediatelyspread through Kautokeino, and before night all the Lapps of the placewere ambitious to undergo the same operation. Indeed, the report reachedthe neighboring villages, and a Hammerfest merchant, who came in thefollowing morning from a distance of seven miles, obtained a guide atless than the usual price, through the anxiety of the latter to arrivein time to have his portrait taken. The shortness of the imperfectdaylight, however, obliged me to decline further offers, especially asthere were few Lapps of pure, unmixed blood among my visitors. Kautokeino was the northern limit of my winter journey. I proposedvisiting Altengaard in the summer, on my way to the North Cape, andthere is nothing in the barren tract between the two places to repay theexcursion. I had already seen enough of the Lapps to undeceive me inregard to previously-formed opinions respecting them, and to take awaythe desire for a more intimate acquaintance. In features, as inlanguage, they resemble the Finns sufficiently to indicate anethnological relationship. I could distinguish little, if any, trace ofthe Mongolian blood in them. They are fatter, fairer, and altogetherhandsomer than the nomadic offshoots of that race, and resemble theEsquimaux (to whom they have been compared) in nothing but their rude, filthy manner of life. Von Buch ascribes the difference in stature andphysical stamina between them and the Finns to the use of the vapor bathby the latter and the aversion to water of the former. They are a raceof Northern gipsies, and it is the restless blood of this class ratherthan any want of natural capacity which retards their civilisation. Although the whole race has been converted to Christianity, andeducation is universal among them--no Lapp being permitted to marryuntil he can read--they have but in too many respects substituted oneform of superstition for another. The spread of temperance among them, however, has produced excellent results, and, in point of morality, theyare fully up to the prevailing standard in Sweden and Norway. Thepractice, formerly imputed to them, of sharing their connubial rightswith the guests who visited them, is wholly extinct, --if it everexisted. Theft is the most usual offence, but crimes of a more heinouscharacter are rare. Whatever was picturesque in the Lapps has departed with their paganism. No wizards now ply their trade of selling favorable winds to theNorwegian coasters, or mutter their incantations to discover theconcealed grottoes of silver in the Kiölen mountains. It is in vain, therefore, for the romantic traveller to seek in them the materials forweird stories and wild adventures. They are frightfully pious andcommonplace. Their conversion has destroyed what little of barbaricpoetry there might have been in their composition, and, instead ofchanting to the spirits of the winds, and clouds, and mountains, theyhave become furious ranters, who frequently claim to be possessed by theHoly Ghost. As human beings, the change, incomplete as it is, isnevertheless to their endless profit; but as objects of interest to thetraveller, it has been to their detriment. It would be far morepicturesque to describe a sabaoth of Lapland witches than aprayer-meeting of shouting converts, yet no friend of his race couldhelp rejoicing to see the latter substituted for the former. Inproportion, therefore, as the Lapps have become enlightened (like allother savage tribes), they have become less interesting. Retainingnearly all that is repulsive in their habits of life, they have lost theonly peculiarities which could persuade one to endure the inconveniencesof a closer acquaintance. I have said that the conversion of the Lapps was in some respects thesubstitution of one form of superstition for another. A tragicexemplification of this fact, which produced the greatest excitementthroughout the North, took place in Kautokeino four years ago. Throughthe preaching of Lestadius and other fanatical missionaries, a spiritualepidemic, manifesting itself in the form of visions, trances, andangelic possessions, broke out among the Lapps. It infected the wholecountry, and gave rise to numerous disturbances and difficulties inKautokeino. It was no unusual thing for one of the congregation to ariseduring church service, declare that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost, and call upon those present to listen to his revelations. The formerLänsman arrested the most prominent of the offenders, and punished themwith fine and imprisonment. This begat feelings of hatred on the part ofthe fanatics, which soon ripened into a conspiracy. The plot was maturedduring the summer months, when the Lapps descended towards the Norwegiancoast with their herds of reindeer. I have the account of what followed from the lips of Pastor Hvoslef, whowas then stationed here, and was also one of the victims of theirresentment. Early one morning in October, when the inhabitants werereturning from their summer wanderings, he was startled by theappearance of the resident merchant's wife, who rushed into his house ina frantic state, declaring that her husband was murdered. He fanciedthat the woman was bewildered by some sudden fright, and, in order toquiet her, walked over to the merchant's house. Here he found theunfortunate man lying dead upon the floor, while a band of about thirtyLapps, headed by the principal fanatics, were forcing the house of theLänsman, whom they immediately dispatched with their knives and clubs. They then seized the pastor and his wife, beat them severely withbirch-sticks, and threatened them with death unless they wouldacknowledge the divine mission of the so-called prophets. The greater part of the day passed in uncertainty and terror, buttowards evening appeared a crowd of friendly Lapps from the neighbouringvillages, who, after having received information, through fugitives, ofwhat had happened, armed themselves and marched to the rescue. A fightensued, in which the conspirators were beaten, and the prisonersdelivered out of their hands. The friendly Lapps, unable to take chargeof all the criminals, and fearful lest some of them might escape duringthe night, adopted the alternative of beating every one of them sothoroughly that they were all found the next morning in the same placeswhere they had been left the evening before. They were tried at Alten, the two ringleaders executed, and a number of the others sent to thepenitentiary at Christiania. This summary justice put a stop to all openand violent manifestations of religious frenzy, but it still exists tosome extent, though only indulged in secret. We paid a visit to Pastor Hvoslef on Monday, and had the pleasure of hiscompany to dinner in the evening. He is a Christian gentleman in thebest sense of the term, and though we differed in matters of belief, Iwas deeply impressed with his piety and sincerity. Madame Hvoslef andtwo rosy little Arctic blossoms shared his exile--for this is nothingless than an exile to a man of cultivation and intellectual tastes. Inhis house I saw--the last thing one would have expected to find in theheart of Lapland--a piano. Madame Hvoslef, who is an accomplishedperformer, sat down to it, and gave us the barcarole from Massaniello. While in the midst of a maze of wild Norwegian melodies, I saw thePastor whisper something in her ear. At once, to our infinite amazement, she boldly struck up "Yankee Doodle!" Something like an Americanwar-whoop began to issue from Braisted's mouth, but was smothered intime to prevent an alarm. "How on earth did that air get into Lapland!"I asked. "I heard Ole Bull play it at Christiania, " said Madame Hvoslef, "and learned it from memory afterwards. " The weather changed greatly after our arrival. From 23° below zero onSunday evening, it rose to 8-1/2° above, on Monday night, with a furioushurricane of snow from the north. We sent for our deer from the hillsearly on Tuesday morning, in order to start on our return to Muoniovara. The Lapps, however, have an Oriental disregard of time, and as there wasno chance of our getting off before noon, we improved part of the delayin visiting the native schools and some of the earthen huts, or, rather, dens, in which most of the inhabitants live. There were two schools, each containing about twenty scholars--fat, greasy youngsters, swaddledin reindeer skins, with blue eyes, light brown or yellow hair, and tawnyred cheeks, wherever the original colour could be discerned. As therooms were rather warm, the odour of Lapp childhood was not quite asfresh as a cowslip, and we did not tarry long among them. Approaching the side of a pile of dirt covered with snow, we pushed oneafter another, against a small square door, hung at such a slant that itclosed of itself, and entered an ante-den used as a store-room. Anothersimilar door ushered us into the house, a rude, vaulted space, framedwith poles, sticks and reindeer hides, and covered compactly with earth, except a narrow opening in the top to let out the smoke from a firekindled in the centre. Pieces of reindeer hide, dried flesh, bags offat, and other articles, hung from the frame and dangled against ourheads as we entered. The den was not more than five feet high by abouteight feet in diameter. The owner, a jolly, good-humoured Lapp, gave mea low wooden stool, while his wife, with a pipe in her mouth, squatteddown on the hide which served for a bed and looked at me with amiablecuriosity. I contemplated them for a while with my eyes full of tears(the smoke being very thick, ) until finally both eyes and nose couldendure no more, and I sought the open air again. FOOTNOTES: [A] This was written in Lapland; and at the same time my friend Dr. Elisha Kent Kane, of immortal memory, lay upon his death-bed, in Havana. I retain the words, which I then supposed would meet his eye, that I mayadd my own tribute of sorrow for the untimely death of one of thetruest, bravest, and noblest-hearted men I ever knew. CHAPTER XII. THE RETURN TO MUONIOVARA. While at Kautokeino I completed my Lapp outfit by purchasing a scarletcap, stuffed with eider down, a pair of _boellinger_, or reindeerleggings, and the _komager_, or broad, boat-shaped shoes, filled withdry soft hay, and tightly bound around the ankles, which are worn byeverybody in Lapland. Attired in these garments, I made a very passableLapp, barring a few superfluous inches of stature, and at once realizedthe prudence of conforming in one's costume to the native habits. Afterthe first feeling of awkwardness is over, nothing can be better adaptedto the Polar Winter than the Lapp dress. I walked about at first withthe sensation of having each foot in the middle of a large feather bed, but my blood preserved its natural warmth even after sitting for hoursin an open pulk. The _boellinger_, fastened around the thighs bydrawing-strings of reindeer sinew, are so covered by the poesk that onebecomes, for all practical purposes, a biped reindeer, and may wallow inthe snow as much as he likes without the possibility of a particlegetting through his hide. The temperature was, nevertheless, singularly mild when we set out onour return. There had been a violent storm of wind and snow the previousnight, after which the mercury rose to 16° above zero. We waited untilnoon before our reindeers could be collected, and then set off, with thekind farewell wishes of the four Norwegian inhabitants of the place. Iconfess to a feeling of relief when we turned our faces southward, andcommenced our return to daylight. We had at last seen the Polar night, the day without a sunrise; we had driven our reindeer under the archesof the aurora borealis; we had learned enough of the Lapps to convinceus that further acquaintance would be of little profit; and it nowseemed time to attempt an escape from the limbo of Death into which wehad ventured. Our faces had already begun to look pale and faded fromthree weeks of alternate darkness and twilight, but the novelty of ourlife preserved us from any feeling of depression and prevented anyperceptible effect upon our bodily health, such as would assuredly havefollowed a protracted experience of the Arctic Winter. Every day nowwould bring us further over the steep northern shoulder of the Earth, and nearer to that great heart of life in the south, where her bloodpulsates with eternal warmth. Already there was a perceptible increaseof the sun's altitude, and at noonday a thin upper slice of his disc wasvisible for about half an hour. By Herr Berger's advice, we engaged as guide to Lippajärvi, a Lapp, whohad formerly acted as postman, and professed to be able to find his wayin the dark. The wind had blown so violently that it was probable weshould have to break our own road for the whole distance. LeavingKautokeino, we travelled up the valley of a frozen stream, towardsdesolate ranges of hills, or rather shelves of the table-land, runningnorth-east and south-west. They were spotted with patches of stuntedbirch, hardly rising above the snow. Our deer were recruited, and wemade very good progress while the twilight lasted. At some Lapp tents, where we stopped to make inquiries about the ice, I was much amused bythe appearance of a group of children, who strikingly resembledbear-cubs standing on their hind legs. They were coated with reindeerhide from head to foot, with only a little full-moon of tawny red facevisible. We stopped at Siepe an hour to bait the deer. The single wooden hut wascrowded with Lapps, one of whom, apparently the owner, spoke a littleNorwegian. He knew who we were, and asked me many questions aboutAmerica. He was most anxious to know what was our religion, and whatcourse the Government took with regard to different sects. He seemed alittle surprised, and not less pleased, to hear that all varieties ofbelief were tolerated, and that no one sect possessed any peculiarprivileges over another. (It is only very recently that dissenters fromthe Orthodox Church have been allowed to erect houses of worship inNorway. ) While we were speaking on these matters, an old woman, kneelingnear us, was muttering prayers to herself, wringing her hands, sobbing, and giving other evidences of violent religious excitement. Thisappeared to be a common occurrence, as none of the Lapps took theslightest notice of it. I have no doubt that much of that hallucinationwhich led to the murders at Kautokeino still exists among the people, kept alive by secret indulgence. Those missionaries have much to answerfor who have planted the seeds of spiritual disease among this ignorantand impressible race. The night was cold and splendidly clear. We were obliged to leave theriver on account of rotten ice, and took to the open plains, where ourdeers sank to their bellies in the loose snow. The leading animalsbecame fractious, and we were obliged to stop every few minutes, untiltheir paroxysms subsided. I could not perceive that the Lapps themselvesexercised much more control over them than we, who were new to thebusiness. The domesticated reindeer still retains his wild instincts, and never fails to protest against the necessity of labour. The mostdocile will fly from the track, plunge, face about and refuse to draw, when you least expect it. They are possessed by an incorrigiblestupidity. Their sagacity applies only to their animal wants, and theyseem almost totally deficient in memory. They never become attached tomen, and the only sign of recognition they show, is sometimes to allowcertain persons to catch them more easily than others. In point of speedthey are not equal to the horse, and an hour's run generally exhauststhem. When one considers their size, however, their strength and powerof endurance seem marvellous. Herr Berger informed me that he had drivena reindeer from Alten to Kautokeino, 112 miles, in twenty-six hours, andfrom the latter place to Muoniovara in thirty. I was also struck by theremarkable adaptation of the animal to its uses. Its hoof resembles thatof the camel, being formed for snow, as the latter for sand. It isbroad, cloven and flexible, the separate divisions spreading out so asto present a resisting surface when the foot is set down, and fallingtogether when it is lifted. Thus in snow where a horse would founder inthe space of a hundred yards, the deer easily works his way, mile aftermile, drawing the sliding, canoe-like pulk, burdened with his master'sweight, after him. The Lapps generally treat their animals with the greatest patience andforbearance, but otherwise do not exhibit any particular attachment forthem. They are indebted to them for food, clothing, habitation andconveyance, and their very existence may therefore almost be said todepend on that of their herds. It is surprising, however, what a numberof deer are requisite for the support of a family. Von Buch says that aLapp who has a hundred deer is poor, and will be finally driven todescend to the coast, and take to fishing. The does are never made tolabour, but are kept in the woods for milking and breeding. Their milkis rich and nourishing, but less agreeable to the taste than that of thecow. The cheese made from it is strong and not particularly palatable. It yields an oil which is the sovereign specific for frozen flesh. Themale deer used for draft are always castrated, which operation the oldLapp women perform by slowly chewing the glands between their teethuntil they are reduced to a pulp, without wounding the hide. During this journey I had ample opportunity of familiarising myself withreindeer travel. It is picturesque enough at the outset, but when thenovelty of the thing is worn off nothing is left but a continual drainupon one's patience. Nothing can exceed the coolness with which yourdeer jumps off the track, slackens his tow-rope, turns around and looksyou in the face, as much as to say: "What are you going to do aboutit?" The simplicity and stupidity of his countenance seem to you to beadmirably feigned, and unless you are an old hand you are inevitablyprovoked. This is particularly pleasant on the marshy table-lands ofLapland, where, if he takes a notion to bolt with you, your pulk bouncesover the hard tussocks, sheers sideways down the sudden pitches, orswamps itself in beds of loose snow. Harness a frisky sturgeon to a"dug-out, " in a rough sea, and you will have some idea of this method oftravelling. While I acknowledge the Providential disposition of thingswhich has given the reindeer to the Lapp, I cannot avoid thanking Heaventhat I am not a Lapp, and that I shall never travel again with reindeer. The aberrations of our deer obliged us to take a very sinuous course. Sometimes we headed north, and sometimes south, and the way seemed solong that I mistrusted the quality of our guide; but at last a lightshone ahead. It was the hut of Eitajärvi. A lot of pulks lay in front ofit, and the old Finn stood already with a fir torch, waiting to light usin. On arriving, Anton was greeted by his sister Caroline, who had comethus far from Muoniovara, on her way to visit some relatives atAltengaard. She was in company with some Finns, who had left Lippajärvithe day previous, but losing their way in the storm, had wandered aboutfor twenty-four hours, exposed to its full violence. Think of anAmerican girl of eighteen sitting in an open pulk, with the thermometerat zero, a furious wind and blinding snow beating upon her, and neitherrest nor food for a day! There are few who would survive twelve hours, yet Caroline was as fresh, lively, and cheerful as ever, andimmediately set about cooking our supper. We found a fire in the coldguest's room, the place swept and cleaned, and a good bed of deerskinsin one corner. The temperature had sunk to 12° below zero, and the windblew through wide cracks in the floor, but between the fire and thereciprocal warmth of our bodies we secured a comfortable sleep--a thingof the first consequence in such a climate. Our deer started well in the morning, and the Lapp guide knew his wayperfectly. The wind had blown so strongly that the track was clearedrather than filled, and we slipped up the long slopes at a rapid rate. Irecognised the narrow valley where we first struck the northern streams, and the snowy plain beyond, where our first Lapp guide lost his way. Bythis time it was beginning to grow lighter, showing us the dreary wastesof table-land which we had before crossed in the fog. North of us was aplain of unbroken snow, extending to a level line on the horizon, whereit met the dark violet sky. Were the colour changed, it would haveperfectly represented the sandy plateaus of the Nubian Desert, in somany particulars does the extreme North imitate the extreme South. Butthe sun, which never deserts the desert, had not yet returned to thesesolitudes. Far, far away, on the edge of the sky, a dull red glimmershowed where he moved. Not the table-land of Pamir, in Thibet, thecradle of the Oxus and the Indus, but this lower Lapland terrace, isentitled to the designation of the "Roof of the World. " We were on thesummit, creeping along her mountain rafters, and looking southward, offher shelving eaves, to catch a glimpse of the light playing on hermajestic front. Here, for once, we seemed to look down on the horizon, and I thought of Europe and the Tropics as lying below. Our journeynorthward had been an ascent but now the world's steep sloped downwardbefore us into sunshine and warmer air. In ascending the Andes or theHimalayas, you pass through all climates and belts of vegetation betweenthe Equator and the Pole, and so a journey due north, beyond the circleof the sun, simply reverses the phenomenon, and impresses one like theascent of a mountain on the grandest possible scale. In two hours from the time we left Eitajärvi we reached the Lappencampment. The herds of deer had been driven in from the woods, andwere clustered among the birch bushes around the tents. We had somedifficulty in getting our own deer past them, until the Lapps came toour assistance. We made no halt, but pushed on, through deeper snowsthan before, over the desolate plain. As far as Palajärvi we ran withour gunwales below the snow-level, while the foremost pulks werefrequently swamped under the white waves that broke over them. We passedthrough a picturesque gorge between two hills about 500 feet high, andbeyond it came upon wide lakes covered deep with snow, under which therewas a tolerable track, which the leading deer was able to find with hisfeet. Beyond these lakes there was a ridge, which we had no soonercrossed than a dismally grand prospect opened before us. We overlooked avalley-basin, marked with belts of stunted birch, and stretching awayfor several miles to the foot of a bleak snowy mountain, which I at oncerecognised as Lippavara. After rounding its western point and turningsouthward again, we were rejoiced with the sight of some fir trees, fromwhich the snow had been shaken, brightening even with their gloomygreen the white monotony of the Lapland wilderness. It was like a suddengleam of sunshine. We reached Lippajärvi at twelve, having made twenty-eight miles of hardtravel in five hours. Here we stopped two hours to cook a meal andchange our deer, and then pushed on to reach Palajoki the same night. Wedrove through the birch woods, no longer glorious as before, for thesnow had been shaken off, and there was no sunset light to transfigurethem. Still on, ploughing through deep seas in the gathering darkness, over marshy plains, all with a slant southward, draining into theMuonio, until we reached the birchen ridge of Suontajärvi, with itsbeautiful firs rising here and there, silent and immovable. Even thetrees have no voices in the North, let the wind blow as it will. Thereis nothing to be heard but the sharp whistle of the dry snow--the samedreary music which accompanies the African simoom. The night was verydark, and we began to grow exceedingly tired of sitting flat in ourpulks. I looked sharp for the Palajok Elv, the high fir-fringed banks ofwhich I remembered, for they denoted our approach to the Muonio; but itwas long, long before we descended from the marshes upon the windingroad of snow-covered ice. In vain I shifted my aching legs and worked mybenumbed hands, looking out ahead for the embouchure of the river. Braisted and I encouraged each other, whenever we were near enough tohear, by the reminder that we had only one more day with reindeer. Aftera long time spent in this way, the high banks flattened, level snows andwoods succeeded, and we sailed into the port of Palajoki. The old Finnish lady curtsied very deeply as she recognised us, andhastened to cook our coffee and reindeer, and to make us a good bed withsheets. On our former visit the old lady and her sons had watched usundress and get into bed, but on this occasion three buxom daughters, ofages ranging from sixteen to twenty-two, appeared about the time forretiring, and stationed themselves in a row near the door, where theywatched us with silent curiosity. As we had shown no hesitation in thefirst case, we determined to be equally courageous now, and commencedremoving our garments with great deliberation, allowing them everyopportunity of inspecting their fashion and the manner of wearing them. The work thus proceeded in mutual silence until we were nearly ready forrepose, when Braisted, by pulling off a stocking and displaying amuscular calf, suddenly alarmed the youngest, who darted to the door andrushed out. The second caught the panic, and followed, and the third andoldest was therefore obliged to do likewise, though with evidentreluctance. I was greatly amused at such an unsophisticated display ofcuriosity. The perfect composure of the girls, and the steadiness withwhich they watched us, showed that they were quite unconscious of havingcommitted any impropriety. The morning was clear and cold. Our deer had strayed so far into thewoods that we did not get under way before the forenoon twilightcommenced. We expected to find a broken road down the Muonio, but aheavy snow had fallen the day previous, and the track was completelyfilled. Long Isaac found so much difficulty in taking the lead, his deerconstantly bolting from the path, that Anton finally relieved him, andby standing upright in the pulk and thumping the deer's flanks, succeeded in keeping up the animal's spirits and forcing a way. It wasslow work, however, and the sun, rolling his whole disc above thehorizon, announced midday before we reached Kyrkessuando. As we drove upto the little inn, we were boisterously welcomed by Häl, Herr Forström'sbrown wolf-dog, who had strayed thus far from home. Our deer werebeginning to give out, and we were very anxious to reach Muoniovara intime for dinner, so we only waited long enough to give the animals afeed of moss and procure some hot milk for ourselves. The snow-storm, which had moved over a narrow belt of country, had notextended below this place, and the road was consequently well broken. Weurged our deer into a fast trot, and slid down the icy floor of theMuonio, past hills whose snows flashed scarlet and rose-orange in thelong splendour of sunset. Hunger and the fatigue which our journey wasproducing at last, made us extremely sensitive to the cold, though itwas not more than 20° below zero. My blood became so chilled, that I wasapprehensive the extremities would freeze, and the most vigorous motionof the muscles barely sufficed to keep at bay the numbness whichattacked them. At dusk we drove through Upper Muonioniska, and ourimpatience kept the reindeers so well in motion that before five o'clock(although long after dark, ) we were climbing the well-known slope toHerr Forström's house at Muoniovara. Here we found the merchant, not yetdeparted to the Lapp fair at Karessuando, and Mr. Wolley, who welcomedus with the cordiality of an old friend. Our snug room at thecarpenter's was already warmed and set in order, and after our reindeerdrive of 250 miles through the wildest parts of Lapland, we felt ahome-like sense of happiness and comfort in smoking our pipes before thefamiliar iron stove. The trip to Kautokeino embraced about all I saw of Lapp life during thewinter journey. The romance of the tribe, as I have already said, hastotally departed with their conversion, while their habits of lifescarcely improved in the least, are sufficiently repulsive to preventany closer experience than I have had, unless the gain were greater. Mr. Wolley, who had been three years in Lapland, also informed me that thesuperstitious and picturesque traditions of the people have almostwholly disappeared, and the coarse mysticism and rant which they haveengrafted upon their imperfect Christianity does not differ materiallyfrom the same excrescence in more civilised races. They have not even(the better for them, it is true) any characteristic and picturesquevices--but have become, certainly to their own great advantage, a pious, fanatical, moral, ignorant and commonplace people. I have described themexactly as I found them, and as they have been described to me by thosewho knew them well. The readers of "Afraja" may be a little disappointedwith the picture, as I confess I have been (in an artistic sense, only)with the reality; but the Lapps have lost many vices with their poetic_diablerie_, and nobody has a right to complain. It is a pity that many traits which are really characteristic andinteresting in a people cannot be mentioned on account of that morbidprudery so prevalent in our day, which insults the unconscious innocenceof nature. Oh, that one could imitate the honest unreserve of the oldtravellers--the conscientiousness which insisted on telling not only thetruth, but the whole truth! This is scarcely possible, now; but at thesame time I have not been willing to emasculate my accounts of the tribesof men to the extent perhaps required by our ultra-conventionalism, andmust insist, now and then, on being allowed a little Flemish fidelity tonature. In the description of races, as in the biography of individuals, the most important half of life is generally omitted. CHAPTER XIII. ABOUT THE FINNS. We remained but another day in Muoniovara, after our return fromKautokeino, and this was devoted to preparations for the return journeyto Haparanda. My first intention had been to make an excursion acrossthe country to the iron mountains of Gellivara, thence to Quickjock, atthe foot of the Northern Alp, Sulitelma, "Queen of Snows, " and sosouthward through the heart of Swedish Lappmark; but I found that such ajourney would be attended with much difficulty and delay. In the firstplace, there were no broken roads at this season, except on the routesof inland trade; much of the intermediate country is a wilderness, whereone must camp many nights in the snow; food was very scarce, the Lappshaving hardly enough for their own necessities, and the delays at everyplace where guides and reindeer must be changed, would have prolongedthe journey far beyond the time which I had allotted to the North. Ibegan to doubt, also, whether one would be sufficiently repaid for thegreat fatigue and danger which such a trip would have involved. There isno sensation of which one wearies sooner than disgust; and, much as Ienjoy a degree of barbarism in milder climates, I suspected that a longcompanionship with Lapps in a polar winter would be a little too muchfor me. So I turned my face toward Stockholm, heartily glad that I hadmade the journey, yet not dissatisfied that I was looking forward to itstermination. Before setting out on our return, I shall devote a few pages to theFinns. For the principal facts concerning them, I am mostly indebted toMr. Wolley, whose acquaintance with the language, and residence of threeyears in Lapland, have made him perfectly familiar with the race. As Ihave already remarked, they are a more picturesque people than theSwedes, with stronger lights and shades of character, more ardenttemperaments, and a more deeply-rooted national feeling. They seem to berather clannish and exclusive, in fact, disliking both Swedes andRussians, and rarely intermarrying with them. The sharply-definedboundaries of language and race, at the head of the Bothnian Gulf, are astriking evidence of this. Like their distant relatives, the HungarianMagyars, they retain many distinct traces of their remote Asiaticorigin. It is partly owing to this fact, and partly to that curiousapproach of extremes which we observe in nature no less than inhumanity, that all suggestive traits of resemblance in these regionspoint to the Orient rather than to Europe. I have already described the physical characteristics of the Finns, andhave nothing to add, except that I found the same type everywhere, evenamong the mixed-blooded Quäns of Kautokeino--high cheek-bones, square, strong jaws, full yet firm lips, low, broad foreheads, dark eyes andhair, and a deeper, warmer red on the cheeks than on those of the rosySwedes. The average height is, perhaps, not quite equal to that of thelatter race, but in physical vigor I can see no inferiority, and thereare among them many men of splendid stature, strength, and proportion. Von Buch ascribes the marked difference of stature between the Finns andthe Lapps, both living under precisely the same influences of climate, to the more cleanly habits of the former and their constant use of thevapor-bath; but I have always found that blood and descent, even wherethe variation from the primitive stock is but slight, are more potentthan climate or custom. The Finns have been so long christianised andcivilised (according to the European idea of civilisation), thatwhatever peculiar characteristic they retain must be looked for mainlyin those habits which illustrate their mental and moral natures. Intheir domestic life, they correspond in most particulars to the Swedesof the same class. They are passionate, and therefore prone to excesses--imaginative, andtherefore, owing to their scanty education, superstitious. Thus thereligious element, especially the fantastic aberrations thereofengendered by Lestadius and other missionaries, while it has tendedgreatly to repress the vice, has in the same proportion increased theweakness. Drunkenness, formerly so prevalent as to be the curse ofLapland, is now exceedingly rare, and so are the crimes for which it isresponsible. The most flagrant case which has occurred in theneighborhood of Muoniovara for some years past, was that of a woman whoattempted to poison her father-in-law by mixing the scrapings of lucifermatches with his coffee, in order to get rid of the burden of supportinghim. Although the evidence was very convincing, the matter was hushedup, in order to avoid a scandal upon the Church, the woman being asteadfast member. In regard to drunkenness, I have heard it stated that, while it was formerly no unusual thing for a Finn to be frozen to deathin this condition, the same catastrophe never befell a Lapp, owing tohis mechanical habit of keeping his arms and feet in motion--a habitwhich he preserves even while utterly stupefied and unconscious. A singular spiritual epidemic ran through Polar Finland three or fouryears ago, contemporary with the religious excitement in NorwegianLapland, and partly occasioned by the same reckless men. It consisted ofsobbings, strong nervous convulsions, and occasional attacks of thatstate of semi-consciousness called trance, the subjects of which werelooked upon as having been possessed by the Spirit, and transported tothe other world, where visions like those of John on Patmos, wererevealed to them. The missionaries, instead of repressing this unhealthydelusion, rather encouraged it, and even went so far as to publish assupernatural revelations, the senseless ravings of these poor deludedpeople. The epidemic spread until there was scarcely a family somemember of which was not affected by it, and even yet it has not whollysubsided. The fit would come upon the infected persons at any time, nomatter where they were, or how employed. It usually commenced with aconvulsive catching of the breath, which increased in violence, accompanied by sobbing, and sometimes by cries or groans, until thevictim was either exhausted or fell into a trance, which lasted somehours. The persons who were affected were always treated with thegreatest respect during the attack no one ventured to smile, no matterhow absurd a form the visitation might take. The principle of abstinencefrom strong drinks was promulgated about the same time, and much of thetemperance of the Finns and Lapps is undoubtedly owing the impressionmade upon their natures by these phenomena. The same epidemic has often prevailed in the United States, England andGermany. The barking and dancing mania which visited Kentucky thirty orforty years ago, and the performances of the "Holy Rollers, " were evenmore ludicrous and unnatural. Such appearances are a puzzle alike to thephysiologist and the philosopher; their frequency shows that they arebased on some weak spot in human nature; and in proportion as we pitythe victims we have a right to condemn those who sow the seeds of thepestilence. True religion is never spasmodic; it is calm as theexistence of God. I know of nothing more shocking than such attempts tosubstitute rockets and blue lights for Heaven's eternal sunshine. So far as regards their moral character, the Finns have as little causefor reproach as any other people. We found them as universally honestand honourable in their dealings as the Northern Swedes, who are notsurpassed in the world in this respect. Yet their countenances expressmore cunning and reserve, and the virtue may be partly a negative one, resulting from that indolence which characterises the frigid and thetorrid zone. Thus, also, notwithstanding physical signs which denotemore ardent animal passions than their neighbors, they are equallychaste, and have as high a standard of sexual purity. Illegitimatebirths are quite rare, and are looked upon as a lasting shame anddisgrace to both parties. The practice of "bundling" which, untilrecently, was very common among Finnish lovers, very seldom led to suchresults, and their marriage speedily removed the dishonour. Theirmanners, socially, in this respect, are curiously contradictory. Thus, while both sexes freely mingle in the bath, in a state of nature, whilethe women unhesitatingly scrub, rub and dry their husbands, brothers ormale friends, while the salutation for both sexes is an embrace with theright arm, a kiss is considered grossly immodest and improper. A Finnishwoman expressed the greatest astonishment and horror, at hearing fromMr. Wolley that it was a very common thing in England for a husband andwife to kiss each other. "If my husband were to attempt such a thing, "said she, "I would beat him about the ears so that he would feel it fora week. " Yet in conversation they are very plain and unreserved, thoughby no means gross. They acknowledge that such things as generation, gestation and parturition exist, and it may be that this very absence ofmystery tends to keep chaste so excitable and imaginative a race. Notwithstanding their superstition, their love of poetry, and the wild, rich, musical character of their language, there is a singular absenceof legendary lore in this part of Finland. Perhaps this is owing to thefact that their ancestors have emigrated hither, principally within thelast two centuries, from the early home of the race--Tavastland, theshores of the Pajana Lake, and the Gulf of Finland. It is a difficultmatter to preserve family traditions among them, or even any extendedgenealogical record, from the circumstance that a Finn takes his name, not only from his father's surname, but from his residence. Thus, Isaakitakes the name of "Anderinpoika" from his father Anderi, and adds"Niemi, " the local name of his habitation. His son Nils will be calledNils Isakipoika, with the addition of the name of his residence, wherever that may be; and his family name will be changed as often ashis house. There may be a dozen different names in the course of onegeneration, and the list soon becomes too complicated and confused foran uneducated memory. It is no wonder, therefore, that the Finn knowsvery little except about what happened during his own life, or, at best, his father's. I never heard the Kalewala spoken of, and doubt very muchwhether it is known to the natives of this region. The only songs weheard, north of Haparanda, were hymns--devout, but dismal. There must beballads and household songs yet alive, but the recent spiritual feverhas silenced them for the time. I was at first a little surprised to find the natives of the North soslow, indolent and improvident. We have an idea that a cold climate isbracing and stimulating--_ergo_, the further north you go, the moreactive and energetic you will find the people. But the touch of ice islike that of fire. The tropics relax, the pole benumbs, and thepractical result is the same in both cases. In the long, long winter, when there are but four hours of twilight to twenty of darkness--whenthe cows are housed, the wood cut, the hay gathered, the barley bran andfir bark stowed away for bread, and the summer's catch of fishsalted--what can a man do, when his load of wood or hay is hauled home, but eat, gossip and sleep? To bed at nine, and out of it at eight in themorning, smoking and dozing between the slow performance of his fewdaily duties, he becomes at last as listless and dull as a hibernatingbear. In the summer he has perpetual daylight, and need not hurry. Besides, why should he give himself special trouble to produce anunusually large crop of flax or barley, when a single night may make hislabours utterly profitless? Even in midsummer the blighting frost mayfall: nature seems to take a cruel pleasure in thwarting him: he isfortunate only through chance; and thus a sort of Arab fatalism andacquiescence in whatever happens, takes possession of him. Hisimprovidence is also to be ascribed to the same cause. Such fearfulfamine and suffering as existed in Finland and Lapland during the winterof 1856-7 might no doubt have been partially prevented, but no humanpower could have wholly forestalled it. The polar zone was never designed for the abode of man. In thepre-Adamite times, when England was covered with palm-forests, andelephants ranged through Siberia, things may have been widely different, and the human race then (if there was any) may have planted vineyards onthese frozen hills and lived in bamboo huts. But since the geological_émeutes_ and revolutions, and the establishment of the terrestrial_régime_, I cannot for the life of me see whatever induced beingsendowed with human reason, to transplant themselves hither and here takeroot, while such vast spaces lie waste and useless in more genialclimes. A man may be pardoned for remaining where the providences ofbirth and education have thrown him, but I cannot excuse the firstcolonists for inflicting such a home upon centuries of descendants. Compare even their physical life--the pure animal satisfaction inexistence, for that is not a trifling matter after all--with that of theNubians, or the Malays, or the Polynesians! It is the difference betweena poor hare, hunted and worried year after year by hounds and visions ofhounds and the familiar, confiding wren, happiest of creatures, becausesecure of protection everywhere. Oh that the circle of the eclipticwould coincide with that of the equator! That the sun would shine frompole to pole for evermore, and all lands be habitable and hospitable, and the Saharan sands (according to Fourier) be converted into bowers ofthe Hesperides, and the bitter salt of the ocean brine (_vide_ the sameauthor) become delicious champagne punch, wherein it would be pleasureto drown! But I am afraid that mankind is not yet fit for such amillennium. Meanwhile it is truly comforting to find that even here, where men liveunder such discouraging circumstances that one would charitably forgivethem the possession of many vices, they are, according to their light, fully as true, and honest, and pure, as the inhabitants of the mostfavoured countries in the world. Love for each other, trust in eachother, faith in God, are all vital among them; and their shortcomingsare so few and so easily accounted for, that one must respect them andfeel that his faith in man is not lessened in knowing them. You whospend your lives at home can never know how much good there is in theworld. In rude unrefined races, evil naturally rises to the surface, andone can discern the character of the stream beneath its scum. It is onlyin the highest civilisation where the outside is goodly to the eye, toooften concealing an interior foul to the core. But I have no time to moralise on these matters. My duty is that of achronicler; and if I perform that conscientiously, the lessons which myobservations suggest will need no pointing out. I cannot close thischapter, however, without confessing my obligations to Mr. Wolley, whosethorough knowledge of the Lapps and Finns enabled me to test the truthof my own impressions, and to mature opinions which I should otherwise, from my own short experience, have hesitated in stating. Mr. Wolley, with that pluck and persistence of English character which Emerson somuch admires, had made himself master of all that Lapland can furnish tothe traveller, but intended remaining another year for scientificpurposes. If he gives to the world--as I hope and trust he will--theresult of this long and patient inquiry and investigation, we shall haveat last a standard authority for this little-known corner of Europe. Wewere also indebted to Mr. Wolley for much personal kindness, which Itake pleasure in acknowledging in the only way he cannot prevent. CHAPTER XIV. EXPERIENCES OF ARCTIC WEATHER. We bade a final adieu to Muoniovara on the afternoon of the 24th ofJanuary, leaving Mr. Wolley to wait for June and the birds in thatdismal seclusion. Instead of resuming _skjuts_, we engaged horses as faras Kengis from Herr Forström and a neighbouring Finn, with a couple ofshock-headed natives as postillions. Our sleds were mounted upon tworough Finnish sledges, the only advantage of which was to make harderwork for the horses--but the people would have it so. The sun was down, but a long, long twilight succeeded, with some faint show of a zodiacallight. There was a tolerable track on the river, but our Finns walkedtheir horses the whole way, and we were nearly seven hours in makingParkajoki. The air was very sharp; my nose, feet and hands kept mebusily employed, and I began to fear that I was becoming unusuallysensitive to cold, for the thermometer indicated but 15° below zero whenwe started. At Parkajoki, however, my doubts were removed and mysensations explained, on finding that the temperature had fallen to 44°below. We slept warmly and well on our old bed of reindeer skins, in onecorner of the milk-room. When Braisted, who rose first, opened the door, a thick white mist burst in and rolled heavily along the floor. I wentout, attired only in my shirt and drawers, to have a look at theweather. I found the air very still and keen, though not painfullycold--but I was still full of the warmth of sleep. The mercury, however, had sunk into the very bulb of the thermometer, and was frozen so solidthat I held it in the full glare of the fire for about a minute and ahalf before it thawed sufficiently to mount. The temperature wasprobably 50° below zero, if not more--greater than any we had yetexperienced. But it was six o'clock, and we must travel. Fortifyingourselves with coffee and a little meat, and relying for defence in caseof extremity on a bottle of powerful rum with which we had suppliedourselves, we muffled up with more than usual care, and started forKihlangi. We devoted ourselves entirely to keeping warm, and during the ride ofsix hours suffered very little except from the gradual diminution of ourbodily temperature. It was a dreary journey, following the course of theMuonio between black, snow-laden forests. The sun rose to a height ofseven or eight degrees at meridian; when we came over the same road, onour way north, he only showed half his disc. At Kihlangi the peoplerecognised us, and were as well disposed as their stupidity would allow. The old woman cooked part of our reindeer joint, which, with half adozen cups of strong coffee, brought back a comfortable warmth to ourextremities. There were still twenty-four miles to be traversed; thehorses were already exhausted, and the temperature only rose to -42° atmidday, after which it fell again. We had a terrible journey. Step bystep the horses slowly pulled us through the snow, every hour seeminglengthened to a day, as we worked our benumbed fingers and toes untilthe muscles were almost powerless, and yet it was dangerous to cease. Gradually the blood grew colder in the main channels; insidious chillssucceeded, followed by a drowsy torpor, like that which is produced by aheavy dose of opium, until we were fain to have recourse to the rum, ahorrid, vitriolic beverage, which burned our throats and stomachs likemelted lead, yet gave us a temporary relief. We almost despaired of reaching Jokijalka, on finding, about ten o'clockat night, that our postillions had taken us to the village of Kolare, and stopped before a large log house, where they seemed to think wewould spend the night. Everybody had gone to bed, we knew not where wewere, and had set our hearts upon the comfortable guest's room atJokijalka. It was impossible to make the fellows understand me, but theysaw that we were angry, and after a short consultation passed on. Weagain entered the snowy woods, which were dimly lighted up by an aurorabehind us--a strange, mysterious, ghastly illumination, like thephosphorescent glow of a putrefying world. We were desperately cold, ourvery blood freezing in our veins, and our limbs numb and torpid. To keepentirely awake was impossible. We talked incessantly, making randomanswers, as continual fleeting dreams crossed the current of ourconsciousness. A heavy thump on the back was pardoned by him whoreceived it, and a punch between the eyes would have been thankfullyaccepted had it been necessary. At last, at last, Kolare church on the river bank came in sight; wecrossed to the Russian side, and drove into the yard of the inn. It wasnearly midnight, 47° below zero, and we had been for seventeen hoursexposed to such a temperature. Everybody had long been asleep. Locks andbolts are unknown, however, so we rushed into the family room, lit firsplinters, and inspected the faces of the sleeping group until we foundthe landlord, who arose and kindled a fresh fire in the milk-room. Theymade us coffee and a small bed, saying that the guest's room was toocold, which indeed it was, being little less than the outsidetemperature. On opening the door in the morning, the cold air rushed inas thick and white as steam. We had a little meat cooked, but could noteat enough, at such an early hour, to supply much fuel. As for takinganything with us for refreshment on the road, it was out of thequestion. One of our Finns turned back to Muoniovara with the laziesthorse, and we got another from our Russian landlord. But it was a long, long journey to the next station (twenty miles), and the continuance ofthe extreme cold began to tell upon us. This part of the road was veryheavy, as on the journey up--seemingly a belt of exposed country wherethe snow drifts more than elsewhere. At Kexisvara we found two of the three pleasant women, who cooked ourlast fragment of reindeer meat, and sent off for horses to Kardis. Wehere parted with our other Finn, very glad to get rid of his horse, andtake a fresh start. We had no difficulty now in making our way with thepeople, as they all recognised us and remembered our overpayments;besides which, I had enlarged my Finnish vocabulary at Muoniovara. Ourhorses were better, our sledges lighter and we were not long in reachingthe iron-works at Kengis, which we passed at dusk. I should willinglyhave called upon the hospitable _bruk-patron_, but we were in too greata hurry to get out of the frigid zone. We were warmed by our meal, andsang lustily as we slid down the Torneå, finding its dreary, sparsely-settled banks cheerful and smiling by contrast with thefrightful solitudes we had left. After some hours the postillion stoppedbefore a house on the Swedish bank to hay his horses. We went up andfound a single inhabitant, a man who was splitting fir for torches, butthe conversation was limited to alternate puffs from our pipes. Therewas a fine aurora behind us--a low arch of white fire, with streamersradiating outward, shifting and dancing along its curve. It was nearly ten o'clock before we reached Kardis, half unconsciousfrom the cold. Our horse ran into the wrong place, and we lost sight ofthe baggage-sled, our only guide in the darkness. We could no longertrust the animal's instinct, but had to depend on our own, which isperhaps truer: at least, I have often found in myself traces of thatblind, unreasoning faculty which guides the bee and the bird, and havenever been deceived in trusting to it. We found the inn, and carried acloud of frozen vapor into the kitchen with us, as we opened the door. The graceful wreaths of ice-smoke rolled before our feet, as beforethose of ascending saints in the old pictures, but ourselves, hair fromhead to foot, except two pairs of eyes, which looked out through icyloop-holes, resembled the reverse of saints. I told the landlord inFinnish that we wanted to sleep--"_mia tarvi nuku á_. " He pointed to abed in the corner, out of which rose a sick girl, of about seventeen, very pale, and evidently suffering. They placed some benches near thefire, removed the bedding, and disposed her as comfortably as the placepermitted. We got some hot milk and hard bread, threw some reindeerskins on the vacant truck, and lay down, but not to sleep much. The roomwas so close and warm, and the dozen persons in it so alternatelysnoring and restless, that our rest was continually disturbed. We, therefore, rose early and aroused the lazy natives. The cold was still at 47° below zero. The roads were so much better, however, that we descended again to our own runners, and our livelyhorses trotted rapidly down the Torneå. The signs of settlement andcomparative civilisation which now increased with every mile were reallycheering. Part of our way lay through the Swedish woods and over theintervening morasses, where the firs were hung with weepers ofblack-green moss, and stood solid and silent in their mantles of snow, lighted with a magnificent golden flush at sunrise. The morning wasicy-clear and dazzling. There was not the least warmth in the sun'srays, but it was pleasant to see him with a white face once more. Wecould still stare at him without winking, but the reflection from thejewelled snow pained our eyes. The cold was so keen that we were obligedto keep our faces buried between our caps and boas, leaving only thesmallest possible vacancy for the eyes. This was exceedinglydisagreeable, on account of the moisture from the breath, which kept thesquirrel tails constantly wet and sticky. Nevertheless, the coldpenetrated through the little aperture; my eyes and forehead were likemarble, the eyeballs like lumps of ice, sending a sharp pang of coldbackward into the brain. I realised distinctly how a statue must feel. Beyond Pello, where we stopped to "fire up, " our road lay mostly on theRussian side. While crossing the Torneå at sunset, we met a drove ofseventy or eighty reindeer, in charge of a dozen Lapps, who werebringing a cargo from Haparanda. We were obliged to turn off the roadand wait until they had passed. The landlord at Juoxengi, who was quitedrunk, hailed us with a shout and a laugh, and began talking aboutKautokeino. We had some difficulty in getting rid of his conversation, and his importunities for us to stay all night. This was the place wherethey tried to make us leave, on the way up. I replied to the landlord'storrent of Finnish with some choice specimens of Kentucky oratory, whichseemed to make but little impression on him. He gave us excellenthorses, however, and we sped away again, by the light of anotherbrilliant auroral arch. Our long exposure to the extreme cold, coupled as it was with lack ofrest and nourishment, now began to tell upon us. Our temperature fell solow that we again had recourse to the rum, which alone, I verilybelieve, prevented us from freezing bodily. One is locked in the ironembrace of the polar air, until the very life seems to be squeezed outof him. I huddled myself in my poesk, worked my fingers and toes, buriedmy nose in the damp, frozen fur, and laboured like a Hercules to keepmyself awake and alive--but almost in vain. Braisted and I kept watchover each other, or attempted it, for about the only consciousnesseither of us had was that of the peril of falling asleep. We talked ofanything and everything, sang, thumped each other, but the very nextminute would catch ourselves falling over the side of the sled. Athousand dreams worried my brain and mixed themselves with my talk; andthe absurdities thus created helped to arouse me. Speaking of seeingsome wolves in the woods of California, I gravely continued: "I took outmy sword, sharpened it on the grindstone and dared him to come on, " whena punch in the ribs stopped me. Another time, while talking ofhippopotami in the White Nile, I said: "If you want any skins, you mustgo to the Hudson's Bay Company. They have a depôt of them on Vancouver'sIsland. " Braisted gave me much trouble, by assuring me in the mostnatural wide-awake voice that he was not in the least sleepy, when thereins had dropped from his hands and his head rocked on his shoulder. Icould never be certain whether he was asleep or awake. Our only plan wasnot to let the conversation flag a minute. At Torakankorwa we changed horses without delay, and hurried on toMatarengi. On turning out of the road to avoid a hay-sled, we werewhirled completely over. There was no fun in this, at such a time. Ifell head foremost into deep snow, getting a lump in my right eye, whichcompletely blinded me for a time. My forehead, eyebrows, and the bridgeof my nose were insufferably painful. On reaching Matarengi I found mynose frozen through, and considerably swollen. The people were in bed, but we went into the kitchen, where a dozen or more were stowed about, and called for the landlord. Three young girls, who were in bed in onecorner, rose and dressed themselves in our presence without the leasthesitation, boiled some milk, and gave us bread and butter. We had asingle small bed, which kept us warm by obliging us to lie close. Sometime in the night, two Swedes arrived, who blustered about and madeso much noise, that Braisted finally silenced them by threats ofpersonal violence, delivered in very good English. In the morning the mercury froze, after showing 49° below zero. The coldwas by this time rather alarming, especially after our experiences ofthe previous day. The air was hazy with the fine, frozen atoms ofmoisture, a raw wind blew from the north, the sky was like steel whichhas been breathed upon--in short, the cold was visible to the naked eye. We warmed our gloves and boots, and swathed our heads so completely thatnot a feature was to be seen. I had a little loophole between my cap andboa, but it was soon filled up with frost from my breath, and helped tokeep in the warmth. The road was hard and smooth as marble. We had goodhorses, and leaving Avasaxa and the polar circle behind us, we sped downthe solid bed of the Torneå to Niemis. On the second stage we began tofreeze for want of food. The air was really terrible; nobody venturedout of doors who could stay in the house. The smoke was white and dense, like steam; the wind was a blast from the Norseman's hell, and the touchof it on your face almost made you scream. Nothing can be moresevere--flaying, branding with a hot iron, cutting with a dull knife, &c. , may be something like it, but no worse. The sun rose through the frozen air a little after nine, and mountedquite high at noon. At Päckilä we procured some hot milk and smokedreindeer, tolerable horses and a stout boy of fourteen to drive ourbaggage-sled. Every one we met had a face either frozen, or about tofreeze. Such a succession of countenances, fiery red, purple, blue, black almost, with white frost spots, and surrounded with rings of icyhair and fur, I never saw before. We thanked God again and again thatour faces were turned southward, and that the deadly wind was blowing onour backs. When we reached Korpikilä, our boy's face, though solid andgreasy as a bag of lard, was badly frozen. His nose was quite white andswollen, as if blistered by fire, and there were frozen blotches on bothcheeks. The landlord rubbed the parts instantly with rum, and performedthe same operation on our noses. On this day, for the first time in more than a month, we saw daylight, and I cannot describe how cheering was the effect of those pure, white, brilliant rays, in spite of the iron landscape they illumined. It was nolonger the setting light of the level Arctic sun; not the twilightgleams of shifting colour, beautiful, but dim; not the faded, mockdaylight which sometimes glimmered for a half-hour at noon; but the truewhite, full, golden day, which we had almost forgotten. So nearly, indeed, that I did not for some time suspect the cause of the unusualwhiteness and brightness. Its effect upon the trees was superb. Thetwigs of the birch and the needles of the fir were coated with crystal, and sparkled like jets of jewels spouted up from the immaculate snow. The clumps of birches can be compared to nothing but frozenfountains--frozen in full action, with their showery sheaves of sprayarrested before they fell. It was a wonderful, a fairy world webeheld--too beautiful to be lifeless, but every face we met reminded usthe more that this was the chill beauty of Death--of dead Nature. Deathwas in the sparkling air, in the jewelled trees, in the spotless snow. Take off your mitten, and his hand will grasp yours like a vice; uncoveryour mouth, and your frozen lips will soon acknowledge his kiss. Even while I looked the same icy chills were running through my blood, precursors of that drowsy torpor which I was so anxious to avoid. Butno; it _would come_, and I dozed until both hands became so stiff thatit was barely possible to restore their powers of motion and feeling. Itwas not quite dark when we reached Kuckula, the last station, but thenceto Haparanda our horses were old and lazy, and our postillion was alittle boy, whose weak voice had no effect. Braisted kept his hands warmin jerking and urging, but I sat and froze. Village after village waspassed, but we looked in vain for the lights of Torneå. We werethoroughly exhausted with our five days' battle against the dreadfulcold, when at last a row of lights gleamed across the river, and wedrove up to the inn. The landlord met us with just the same words as onthe first visit, and, strange enough, put us into the same room, wherethe same old Norrland merchant was again quartered in the same stage oftipsiness. The kind Fredrika did not recognise us in our Lapp dresses, until I had unrobed, when she cried out in joyful surprise, "Why, youwere here before!" We had been so completely chilled that it was a long time before anyperceptible warmth returned. But a generous meal, with a bottle of whatwas called "_gammal scherry_" (though the Devil and his servants, themanufacturers of chemical wines, only knew what it was), started theflagging circulation. We then went to bed, tingling and stinging inevery nerve from the departing cold. Every one complained of theseverity of the weather, which, we were told, had not been equalled formany years past. But such a bed, and such a rest as I had! Lying betweenclean sheets, with my feet buried in soft fur, I wallowed in a flood ofdowny, delicious sensations until sunrise. In the morning we ventured towash our faces and brush our teeth for the first time in five days, puton clean shirts, and felt once more like responsible beings. The nativesnever wash when the weather is so cold, and cautioned us against it. Thewind had fallen but the mercury again froze at 47° below zero. Nevertheless, we went out after breakfast to call upon Dr. Wretholm, andwalk over the Torneå. The old Doctor was overjoyed to see us again. "Ah!" said he, "it is agood fortune that you have got back alive. When the weather was so cold, I thought of you, travelling over the Norwegian _fjeller_, and thoughtyou must certainly be frozen to death. " His wife was no less cordial inher welcome. They brought us ale and Swedish punch, with reindeer cheesefor our frozen noses, and insisted on having their horse put into thesled to take us over to Torneå and bring us back to dinner. The doctor'sboy drove us, facing the wind with our faces exposed, at -42°, but onenight's rest and good food enabled us to bear it without inconvenience. Torneå is a plain Swedish town, more compactly built than Haparanda, yetscarcely larger. The old church is rather picturesque, and there weresome tolerable houses, which appeared to be government buildings, butthe only things particularly Russian which we noticed were a Cossacksentry, whose purple face showed that he was nearly frozen, and aguide-post with "150 versts to Uleaborg" upon it. On returning to theDoctor's we found a meal ready, with a capital salad of frozen salmon, _bouillon_, ale, and coffee. The family were reading the Swedishtranslation of "Dred" in the _Aftonblad_, and were interested in hearingsome account of Mrs. Beecher Stowe. We had a most agreeable andinteresting visit to these kind, simple-hearted people. I made a sunset sketch of Torneå. I proposed also to draw Fredrika, butshe at once refused, in great alarm. "Not for anything in the world, "said she, "would I have it done!" What superstitious fears possessed herI could not discover. We made arrangements to start for Kalix the nextday, on our way to Stockholm. The extreme temperature still continued. The air was hazy with the frozen moisture--the smoke froze in solidmasses--the snow was brittle and hard as metal--iron stuck like glue--inshort, none of the signs of an Arctic winter were wanting. Nevertheless, we trusted to the day's rest and fatter fare on the road for strength tocontinue the battle. CHAPTER XV. INCIDENTS OF THE RETURN JOURNEY. We left Haparanda on the 30th of January. After six days of true Arcticweather--severer than any registered by De Haven's expedition, during awinter in the polar ice--the temperature rose suddenly to 26° belowzero. We were happy and jolly at getting fairly started for Stockholm atlast, and having such mild (!) weather to travel in. The difference inour sensations was remarkable. We could boldly bare our faces and lookabout us; our feet kept warm and glowing, and we felt no more thehazardous chill and torpor of the preceding days. On the second stagethe winter road crossed an arm of the Bothnian Gulf. The path was wellmarked out with fir-trees--a pretty avenue, four or five miles inlength, over the broad, white plain. On the way we saw an eruption ofthe ice, which had been violently thrown up by the confined air. Massesthree feet thick and solid as granite were burst asunder and piled atopof each other. We travelled too fast this day for the proper enjoyment of the wonderfulscenery on the road. I thought I had exhausted my admiration of thesewinter forests--but no, miracles will never cease. Such fountains, candelabra, Gothic pinnacles, tufts of plumes, colossal sprays of coral, and the embodiments of the fairy pencillings of frost on window panes, wrought in crystal and silver, are beyond the power of pen or pencil. Itwas a wilderness of beauty; we knew not where to look, nor which formsto choose, in the dazzling confusion. Silent and all unmoved by the windthey stood, sharp and brittle as of virgin ore--not trees of earth, butthe glorified forests of All-Father Odin's paradise, the celestial cityof Asgaard. No living forms of vegetation are so lovely. Tropical palms, the tree-ferns of Penang, the lotus of Indian rivers, the featherybamboo, the arrowy areca--what are they beside these marvellous growthsof winter, these shining sprays of pearl, ivory and opal, gleaming inthe soft orange light of the Arctic sun? At Sängis we met a handsome young fellow with a moustache, who proved tobe the _Länsman_ of Kalix. I was surprised to find that he knew allabout us. He wondered at our coming here north, when we might stay athome thought once would be enough for us, and had himself been nofurther than Stockholm. I recognised our approach to Näsby by thebarrels set in the snow--an ingenious plan of marking the road in placeswhere the snow drifts, as the wind creates a whirl or eddy around them. We were glad to see Näsby and its two-story inn once more. The pleasantlittle handmaiden smiled all over her face when she saw us again. Näsbyis a crack place: the horses were ready at once, and fine creatures theywere, taking us up the Kalix to Månsbyn, eight miles in one hour. Theroad was hard as a rock and smooth as a table, from much ploughing androlling. The next day was dark and lowering, threatening snow, with a raw windfrom the north-west, and an average temperature of 15° below zero. Weturned the north-western corner of the Bothnian Gulf in the afternoon, and pushed on to Old Luleå by supper-time. At Persö, on the journeynorth, I had forgotten my cigar-case, an old, familiar friend of someyears' standing, and was overjoyed to find that the servant-girl hadcarefully preserved it, thinking I might return some day. We drovethrough the streets of empty stables and past the massive church of OldLuleå, to the inn, where we had before met the surly landlord. There hewas again, and the house was full, as the first time. However weobtained the promise of a bed in the large room, and meanwhile walked upand down to keep ourselves warm. The guests' rooms were filled withgentlemen of the neighborhood, smoking and carousing. After an hour hadpassed, a tall, handsome, strong fellow came out of the rooms, andinformed us that as we were strangers he would give up the room to usand seek lodgings elsewhere. He had drunk just enough to be mellow andhappy, and insisted on delaying his own supper to let us eat first. Whoshould come along at this juncture but the young fellow we had seen incompany with Brother Horton at Månsbyn, who hailed us with: "Thank youfor the last time!" With him was a very gentlemanly man who spokeEnglish. They were both accompanied by ladies, and were returning fromthe ball of Piteå. The guests all treated us with great courtesy andrespect, and the landlord retired and showed his surly face no more. Ourfirst friend informed me that he had been born and brought up in theneighborhood, but could not recollect such a severe winter. As we descended upon the Luleå River in the morning we met ten sleighscoming from the ball. The horses were all in requisition at the variousstations, but an extra supply had been provided, and we were notdetained anywhere. The Norrland sleds are so long that a man may placehis baggage in the front part and lie down at full length behind it. Ahigh back shields the traveller from the wind, and upon a step in therear stands the driver, with a pair of reins as long as amain-top-bowline, in order to reach the horse, who is at the oppositeend of a very long pair of shafts. In these sleds one may travel withmuch comfort, and less danger of overturning, though not so great speedas in the short, light, open frames we bought in Sundsvall. The latterare seldom seen so far north, and were a frequent object of curiosity tothe peasants at the stations. There is also a sled with a body somethinglike a Hansom cab, entirely closed, with a window in front, but they areheavy, easily overturned, and only fit for luxurious travellers. We approached Piteå at sunset. The view over the broad embouchure of theriver, studded with islands, was quite picturesque, and the town itself, scattered along the shore and over the slopes of the hills made a fairappearance. It reminded me somewhat of a small New-England country town, with its square frame houses and an occasional garden. Here I wasrejoiced by the sight of a cherry-tree, the most northern fruit-treewhich I saw. On our way up, we thought Piteå, at night and in asnow-storm, next door to the North Pole. Now, coming from the north, seeing its snowy hills and house-roofs rosy with the glow of sunset, itwas warm and southern by contrast. The four principal towns of West andNorth Bothnia are thus characterised in an old verse of Swedishdoggerel: Umeå, _the fine_; Piteå, _the needle-making_; Luleå, _thelazy_; and in Torneå, _everybody gets drunk_. We took some refreshment, pushed on and reached Abyn between nine andten o'clock, having travelled seventy miles since morning. The sleighingwas superb. How I longed for a dashing American cutter, with a span offast horses, a dozen strings of bells and an ebony driver! Such aturnout would rather astonish the northern solitudes, and the slow, quaint northern population. The next day we had a temperature of 2°above zero, with snow falling, but succeeded in reaching Skellefteå forbreakfast. For the last two or three miles we travelled along ahill-side overlooking a broad, beautiful valley, cleared and dividedinto cultivated fields, and thickly sprinkled with villages andfarm-houses. Skellefteå itself made an imposing appearance, as the loftydome of its Grecian church came in sight around the shoulder of thehill. We took the wrong road, and in turning about split one of ourshafts, but Braisted served it with some spare rope, using thehatchet-handle as a marlingspike, so that it held stoutly all the restof the way to Stockholm. We went on to Burea that night, and the next day to Djekneboda, sixtymiles farther. The temperature fluctuated about the region of zero, witha heavy sky and light snow-falls. As we proceeded southward the forestsbecame larger, and the trees began to show a dark green foliage wherethe wind had blown away the snow, which was refreshing to see, after theblack or dark indigo hue they wear farther north. On the 4th ofFebruary, at noon, we passed through Umeå, and congratulated ourselveson getting below the southern limit of the Lapland climate. There isnothing to say about these towns; they are mere villages with less thana thousand inhabitants each, and no peculiar interest, either local orhistorical, attaching to any of them. We have slept in Luleå, and Piteå, and dined in Umeå, --and further my journal saith not. The 5th, however, was a day to be noticed. We started from Angersjö, with a violent snow storm blowing in our teeth--thermometer at zero. Ourroad entered the hilly country of Norrland, where we found greenforests, beautiful little dells, pleasant valleys, and ash and beechintermingled with the monotonous but graceful purple birch. We wereoverwhelmed with gusts of fine snow shaken from the trees as we passed. Blinding white clouds swept the road, and once again we heard the howlof the wind among boughs that were free to toss. At Afwa, which wereached at one o'clock, we found a pale, weak, sickly young Swede, withfaded moustaches, who had decided to remain there until next day. Thiscircumstance induced us to go on, but after we had waited half an hourand were preparing to start, the weather being now ten times worse thanbefore, he announced his resolution to start also. He had drunk fourlarge glasses of milk and two cups of coffee during the half hour. We went ahead, breaking through drifts of loose snow which overtoppedour sleds, and lashed by the furious wind, which drove full in ourfaces. There were two or three plows at work but we had no benefit fromthem, so long as we were not directly in their wake. Up and down wentour way, over dark hills and through valleys wild with the storm, andending in chaos as they opened toward the Bothnian Gulf. Hour after hourpassed by, the storm still increased, and the snow beat in our eyes sothat we were completely blinded. It was impossible to keep them open, and yet the moment we shut them the lashes began to freeze together. Ihad a heavy weight of ice on my lids, and long icicles depending fromevery corner of my beard. Yet our frozen noses appeared to be muchimproved by the exposure, and began to give promise of healing withoutleaving a red blotch as a lasting record of what they had endured. Wefinally gave up all attempts to see or to guide the horse, but plungedalong at random through the chaos, until the postillion piloted ourbaggage-sled into the inn-yard of Onska, and our horse followed it. TheSwede was close upon our heels, but I engaged a separate room, so thatwe were freed from the depressing influence of his company. He may havebeen the best fellow in the world, so far as his heart was concerned, but was too weak in the knees to be an agreeable associate. There was nomore stiffness of fibre in him than in a wet towel, and I would as soonwear a damp shirt as live in the same room with such a man. After all, it is not strange that one prefers nerve and energy, even when they aredashed with a flavour of vice, to the negative virtues of a charactertoo weak and insipid to be tempted. Our inn, in this little Norrland village, was about as comfortable andas elegant as three-fourths of the hotels in Stockholm. The rooms werewell furnished; none of the usual appliances were wanting; theattendance was all that could be desired; the fare good and abundant, and the charges less than half of what would be demanded in the capital. Yet Stockholm, small as it is, claims to be for Sweden what Paris is toFrance, and its inhabitants look with an eye of compassion on those ofthe provinces. Norrland, in spite of its long winter, has a bracing, healthy climate, and had it not been for letters from home, facilitiesfor studying Swedish, occasional recreation and the other attractions ofa capital, I should have preferred waiting in some of those wild valleysfor the spring to open. The people, notwithstanding their seclusion fromthe world, have a brighter and more intelligent look than the peasantsof Uppland, and were there a liberal system of common school educationin Sweden, the raw material here might be worked up into products alikehonourable and useful to the country. The Norrlanders seem to me to possess an indolent, almost phlegmatictemperament, and yet there are few who do not show a latent capacity forexertion. The latter trait, perhaps, is the true core and substance oftheir nature; the former is an overgrowth resulting from habits andcircumstances. Like the peasants, or rather small farmers, furthernorth, they are exposed to the risk of seeing their summer's laboursrendered fruitless by a single night of frost. Such a catastrophe, whichno amount of industry and foresight can prevent, recurring frequently(perhaps once in three years on an average), makes them indifferent, ifnot reckless; while that patience and cheerfulness which is an integralpart of the Scandinavian as of the Saxon character, renders themcontented and unrepining under such repeated disappointments. There isthe stuff here for a noble people, although nature and a long course ofneglect and misrule have done their best to destroy it. The Norrlanders live simply, perhaps frugally, but there seems to belittle real destitution among them. We saw sometimes in front of achurch, a representation of a beggar with his hat in his hand, underwhich was an iron box, with an appeal to travellers to drop something infor the poor of the parish; but of actual beggars we found none. Thehouses, although small, are warm and substantial, mostly with doublewindows, and a little vestibule in front of the door, to create anintermediate temperature between the outer and inner air. The beds, evenin many of the inns, are in the family room, but during the day areeither converted into sofas or narrow frames which occupy but littlespace. At night, the bedstead is drawn out to the required breadth, single or double, as may be desired. The family room is always coveredwith a strong home-made rag carpet, the walls generally hung withcolored prints and lithographs, illustrating religion or royalty, and asmany greenhouse plants as the owner can afford to decorate the windows. I have seen, even beyond Umeå, some fine specimens of cactus, pelargonium, calla, and other exotics. It is singular that, with theuniversal passion of the Swedes for flowers and for music, they haveproduced no distinguished painters or composers--but, indeed, a Linnæus. We spent the evening cosily in the stately inn's best room, with itswhite curtains, polished floor, and beds of sumptuous linen. The greatclipper-plows were out early in the morning, to cut a path through thedrifts of the storm, but it was nearly noon before the road wassufficiently cleared to enable us to travel. The temperature, bycontrast with what we had so recently endured, seemed almosttropical--actually 25° above zero, with a soft, southern breeze, andpatches of brilliant blue sky between the parting clouds. Ourdeliverance from the Arctic cold was complete. CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION OF THE ARCTIC TRIP. On leaving Onska, we experienced considerable delay on account of thestorm. The roads were drifted to such an extent that even the ploughscould not be passed through in many places, and the peasants wereobliged to work with their broad wooden spades. The sky, however, waswholly clear and of a pure daylight blue, such as we had not seen fortwo months. The sun rode high in the firmament, like a strong healthysun again, with some warmth in his beams as they struck our faces, andthe air was all mildness and balm. It was heavenly, after our Arcticlife. The country, too, boldly undulating, with fir-forested hills, green and warm in the sunshine, and wild, picturesque valleys sunkbetween, shining in their covering of snow, charmed us completely. Againwe saw the soft blue of the distant ranges as they melted away behindeach other, suggesting space, and light, and warmth. Give me daylightand sunshine, after all! Our Arctic trip seems like a long, long nightfull of splendid dreams, but yet night and not day. On the road, we bought a quantity of the linen handkerchiefs of thecountry, at prices varying from twenty-five to forty cents a piece, according to the size and quality. The bedding, in all the inns, was ofhome-made linen, and I do not recollect an instance where it was notbrought out, fresh and sweet from the press, for us. In this, as in allother household arrangements, the people are very tidy and cleanly, though a little deficient as regards their own persons. Their clothing, however, is of a healthy substantial character, and the women consultcomfort rather than ornament. Many of them wear cloth pantaloons undertheir petticoats, which, therefore, they are able to gather under theirarms in wading through snow-drifts. I did not see a low-necked dress ora thin shoe north of Stockholm. "The damsel who trips at daybreak Is shod like a mountaineer. " Yet a sensible man would sooner take such a damsel to wife than anydelicate Cinderella of the ball-room. I protest I lose all patience whenI think of the habits of our American women, especially our countrygirls. If ever the Saxon race does deteriorate on our side of theAtlantic, as some ethnologists anticipate, it will be wholly theirfault. We stopped for the night at Hörnäs, and had a charming ride the next dayamong the hills and along the inlets of the Gulf. The same bold, picturesque scenery, which had appeared so dark and forbidding to us onour way north, now, under the spring-like sky, cheered and inspired us. At the station of Docksta, we found the peasant girls scrubbing theouter steps, barefooted. At night, we occupied our old quarters at Weda, on the Angermann river. The next morning the temperature was 25° abovezero, and at noon rose to 39°. It was delightful to travel once morewith cap-lappets turned up, fur collar turned down, face and neck free, and hands bare. On our second stage we had an overgrown, insolent boyfor postillion, who persisted in driving slow, and refused to let uspass him. He finally became impertinent, whereupon Braisted ran forwardand turned his horse out of the road, so that I could drive past. Theboy then seized my horse by the head; B. Pitched him into a snow-bank, and we took the lead. We had not gone far before we took the road toHernösand, through mistake, and afterwards kept it through spite, thusadding about seven miles to our day's journey. A stretch of magnificentdark-green forests brought us to a narrow strait which separates theisland of Hernösand from the main land. The ice was already softening, and the upper layer repeatedly broke through under us. Hernösand is a pretty town, of about 2000 inhabitants, with aconsiderable commerce. It is also the capital of the most northernbishopric of Sweden. The church, on an eminence above the town, is, nextto that of Skellefteå, the finest we saw in the north. We took a walkwhile breakfast was preparing, and in the space of twenty minutes sawall there was to be seen. By leaving the regular road, however, we hadincurred a delay of two hours, which did not add to our amiability. Therefore, when the postillion, furiously angry now as well as insolent, came in to threaten us with legal prosecution in case we did not pay himheavy damages for what he called an assault, I cut the discussion shortby driving him out of the room, and that was the last we saw of him. Wereached Fjäl as the moon rose, --a globe of silver fire in a perfectviolet sky. Two merry boys, who sang and shouted the whole way, droveus like the wind around the hay to Wifsta. The moonlight was as brightas the Arctic noonday, and the snowy landscape flashed and glitteredunder its resplendent shower. From the last hill we saw Sundsvall, whichlay beneath us, with its wintry roofs, like a city of ivory and crystal, shining for us with the fairy promise of a warm supper and a good bed. On the 9th, we drove along the shores of the magnificent bay ofSundsvall. Six vessels lay frozen in, at a considerable distance fromthe town. Near the southern extremity of the bay, we passed the villageof Svartvik, which, the postillion informed us, is all owned by oneperson, who carries on ship-building. The appearance of the placejustified his statements. The labourers' houses were mostly new, allbuilt on precisely the same model, and with an unusual air of comfortand neatness. In the centre of the village stood a handsome whitechurch, with a clock tower, and near it the parsonage and school-house. At the foot of the slope were the yards, where several vessels were onthe stocks, and a number of sturdy workmen busy at their several tasks. There was an air of "associated labour" and the "model lodging-house"about the whole place, which was truly refreshing to behold, except atouch of barren utilitarianism in the cutting away of the graceful firsleft from the forest, and thus depriving the houses of all shade andornament. We met many wood-teams, hauling knees and spars, and weresorely troubled to get out of their way. Beyond the bay, the hills ofNorrland ceased, sinking into those broad monotonous undulations whichextend nearly all the way to Stockholm. Gardens with thrivingfruit-trees now began to be more frequent, giving evidence of a climatewhere man has a right to live. I doubt whether it was ever meant thatthe human race should settle in any zone so frigid that fruit cannotripen. Thenceforth we had the roughest roads which were ever made upon afoundation of snow. The increase in travel and in the temperature of theair, and most of all, the short, loosely-attached sleds used to supportthe ship-timber, had worn them into a succession of holes, channels, andtroughs, in and out of which we thumped from morning till night. Ongoing down hill, the violent shocks frequently threw our runnerscompletely into the air, and the wrench was so great that it was amiracle how the sled escaped fracture. All the joints, it is true, beganto work apart, and the ash shafts bent in the most ticklish way; but therough little conveyance which had already done us such hard service heldout gallantly to the end. We reached Mo Myskie on the second night afterleaving Sundsvall, and I was greeted with "_Salaam aleikoom, ya Sidi!_"from the jolly old Tripolitan landlord. There was an unusual amount oftravel northward on the following day, and we were detained at everystation, so that it was nearly midnight before we reached theextortionate inn at Gefle. The morning dawned with a snow-storm, but wewere within 120 miles of Stockholm, and drove in the teeth of it toElfkarleby. The renowned cascades of the Dal were by no means what Iexpected, but it was at least a satisfaction to see living water, afterthe silent rivers and fettered rapids of the North. The snow was now getting rapidly thinner. So scant was it on theexposed Upsala plain that we fully expected being obliged to leave oursleds on the way. Even before reaching Upsala, our postillions chose theless-travelled field-roads whenever they led in the same direction, andbeyond that town we were charged additional post-money for the circuitswe were obliged to make to keep our runners on the snow. On the eveningof the 13th we reached Rotebro, only fourteen miles from Stockholm, andthe next morning, in splendid sunshine, drove past Haga park and palace, into the North-Gate, down the long Drottning-gatan, and up to Kahn'sHotel, where we presented our sleds to the _valet-de-place_, pulled offour heavy boots, threw aside our furs for the remainder of the winter, and sat down to read the pile of letters and papers which Herr Kahnbrought us. It was precisely two months since our departure in December, and in that time we had performed a journey of 2200 miles, 250 of whichwere by reindeer, and nearly 500 inside of the Arctic Circle. Our frozennoses had peeled off, and the new skin showed no signs of the damagethey had sustained--so that we had come out of the fight not onlywithout a scar, but with a marked increase of robust vitality. I must confess, however, that, interesting as was the journey, andhappily as we endured its exposures, I should not wish to make it again. It is well to see the North, even _after_ the South; but, as there is noone who visits the tropics without longing ever after to return again, so, I imagine, there is no one who, having once seen a winter inside theArctic Circle, would ever wish to see another. In spite of the warm, gorgeous, and ever-changing play of colour hovering over the path ofthe unseen sun, in spite of the dazzling auroral dances and the magicaltransfiguration of the forests, the absence of true daylight and of allsigns of warmth and life exercises at last a depressing influence on thespirits. The snow, so beautiful while the sunrise setting illuminationlasts, wears a ghastly monotony at all other times, and the air, soexhilarating, even at the lowest temperature, becomes an enemy to bekept out, when you know its terrible power to benumb and destroy. To thenative of a warmer zone, this presence of an unseen destructive force innature weighs like a nightmare upon the mind. The inhabitants of theNorth also seem to undergo a species of hibernation, as well as theanimals. Nearly half their time is passed in sleep; they are silent incomparison with the natives of the other parts of the world; there islittle exuberant gaiety and cheerfulness, but patience, indifference, apathy almost. Aspects of nature which appear to be hostile to man, often develop and bring into play his best energies, but there areothers which depress and paralyse his powers. I am convinced that theextreme North, like the Tropics, is unfavourable to the best mental andphysical condition of the human race. The proper zone of man liesbetween 30° and 55° North. To one who has not an unusual capacity to enjoy the experiences ofvaried travel, I should not recommend such a journey. With me, therealization of a long-cherished desire, the sense of novelty, theopportunity for contrasting extremes, and the interest with which thepeople inspired me, far outweighed all inconveniences and privations. Infact, I was not fully aware of the gloom and cold in which I had liveduntil we returned far enough southward to enjoy eight hours of sunshine, and a temperature above the freezing point. It was a second birth into aliving world. Although we had experienced little positive suffering fromthe intense cold, except on the return from Muoniovara to Haparanda, ourbodies had already accommodated themselves to a low temperature, and thesudden transition to 30° above zero came upon us like the warmth ofJune. My friend, Dr. Kane, once described to me the comfort he felt whenthe mercury rose to 7° below zero, making it pleasant to be on deck. Thecircumstance was then incomprehensible to me, but is now quite plain. Ican also the better realise the terrible sufferings of himself and hismen, exposed to a storm in a temperature of -47°, when the same degreeof cold, with a very light wind, turned my own blood to ice. Most of our physical sensations are relative, and the mere enumerationof so many degrees of heat or cold gives no idea of their effect uponthe system. I should have frozen at home in a temperature which I foundvery comfortable in Lapland, with my solid diet of meat and butter, andmy garments of reindeer. The following is a correct scale of thephysical effect of cold, calculated for the latitude of 65° to 70°North: _15° above zero_--Unpleasantly warm. _Zero_--Mild and agreeable. _10° below zero_--Pleasantly fresh and bracing. _20° below zero_--Sharp, but not severely cold. Keep your fingers andtoes in motion, and rub your nose occasionally. _30° below zero_--Very cold; take particular care of your nose andextremities: eat the fattest food, and plenty of it _40°below_--Intensely cold; keep awake at all hazards, muffle up to theeyes, and test your circulation frequently, that it may not stopsomewhere before you know it. _50° below_--A struggle for life. * We kept a record of the temperature from the time we left Sundsvall (Dec. 21) until our return to Stockholm. As a matter of interest, I subjoin it, changing the degrees from Reaumur to Fahrenheit. We tested the thermometer repeatedly on the way, and found it very generally reliable, although in extremely low temperature it showed from one to two degrees more than a spirit thermometer. The observations were taken at from 9 to 8 A. M. , 12 to 2 P. M. , and 7 to 11 P. M. , whenever it was possible. _Morning. _ _Noon. _ _Evening. _December 21 + 6 . . Zero. " 22 + 6 . . - 3 " 23 -22 -29 -22 " 24 - 6 -22 -22 " 25 -35 -38 mer. Frozen. " 26 -30 -24 -31 " 27 (storm) -18 -18 -18 " 28 (storm) zero. Zero. Zero. " 29 - 6 -13 -13 " 30 - 6 -13 -22 " 31 (storm) - 3 + 9 + 9January 1, 1857 + 3 + 3 + 3 " 2 - 6 - 6 - 6 " 3 -30 -22 -22 " 4 -18 . . -22 " 5 -31 -30 -33 " 6 -20 - 4 zero. " 7 + 4 +18 +25 " 8 +18 . . -11 " 9 -28 -44 -44 " 10(storm) - 5 . . - 2 " 11(storm) - 2 zero. - 5 " 12, 1857 (storm) - 5 - 4 - 4 " 13 (storm) + 5 + 5 + 5 " 14 - 6 -13 - 6 " 15 - 8 -13 -33 " 16 - 9 -10 -11 " 17 (fog) zero. Zero. Zero. " 18 -10 -18 -23 " 19 (storm) - 3 - 3 - 9 " 20 +20 . . + 6 " 21 - 4 zero. Zero. " 22 + 2 - 6 -13 " 23 -13 - 3 -13 " 24 -15 -22 -44 " 25 mer. Froz. -50? -42 mer. Frozen " 26 -45 -35 -39 " 27 frozen -47? -45 -35 " 28 frozen -49? -47 -44 " 29 -47? -43 -43 " 30 -27 -11 -35 " 31 -17 -16 - 7February 1 zero. - 9 -13 " 2 + 2 + 6 zero. " 3 zero. Zero. Zero. " 4 - 9 zero. - 3 " 5 (storm) + 3 + 3 + 3 " 6 +25 +25 +18 " 7 +14 +18 +25 " 8 +25 +39 +22 " 9 + 5 +22 +16 " 10 +25 +37 +37 " 11 +34 +34 +32 " 12 +32 +37 +23 " 13 +16 +30 +21 " 14 +25 +30 +25 CHAPTER XVII. LIFE IN STOCKHOLM. The Swedes are proud of Stockholm, and justly so. No European capital, except Constantinople, can boast such picturesque beauty of position, and none whatever affords so great a range of shifting yet ever lovelyaspects. Travellers are fond of calling it, in the imitativenomenclature of commonplace, the "Venice of the North"--but it is noVenice. It is not that swan of the Adriatic, singing her death-song inthe purple sunset, but a northern eaglet, nested on the islands androcky shores of the pale green Mälar lake. The _Stad_, or city proper, occupies three islands, which lie in the mouth of the narrow strait, bywhich the waters of the lake, after having come a hundred miles from thewestward, and washed in their course the shores of thirteen hundredislands, pour themselves into the outer archipelago which is claimed bythe Baltic Sea. On the largest of these islands, according to tradition, Agne, King of Sweden, was strangled with his own golden chain, by theFinnish princess Skiolfa, whom he had taken prisoner. This was sixteenhundred years ago, and a thousand years later, Birger Jarl, on the samespot, built the stronghold which was the seed out of which Stockholm hasgrown. This island, and the adjoining _Riddarholm_, or Island of the Knights, contain all the ancient historic landmarks of the city, and nearly allof its most remarkable buildings. The towers of the Storkyrka and theRiddarholm's Church lift themselves high into the air; the dark red massof the _Riddarhus_, or House of Nobles, and the white turrets andquadrangles of the penitentiary are conspicuous among the old white, tile-roofed blocks of houses; while, rising above the whole, the mostprominent object in every view of Stockholm, is the _Slot_, or RoyalPalace. This is one of the noblest royal residences in Europe. Standingon an immense basement terrace of granite, its grand quadrangle ofbetween three and four hundred feet square, with wings (resembling, ingeneral design, the Pitti Palace at Florence), is elevated quite abovethe rest of the city, which it crowns as with a mural diadem. The chasteand simple majesty of this edifice, and its admirable proportions, are aperpetual gratification to the eye, which is always drawn to it, as acentral point, and thereby prevented from dwelling on whateverinharmonious or unsightly features there may be in the general view. Splendid bridges of granite connect the island with the northern andsouthern suburbs, each of which is much greater in extent than the cityproper. The palace fronts directly upon the _Norrbro_, or NorthernBridge, the great thoroughfare of Stockholm, which leads to the Squareof Gustavus Adolphus, flanked on either side by the palace of the CrownPrince and the Opera House. The northern suburb is the fashionablequarter, containing all the newest streets and the handsomest privateresidences. The ground rises gradually from the water, and as verylittle attention is paid to grading, the streets follow the undulationsof the low hills over which they spread, rising to the windmills on theouter heights and sinking into the hollows between. The southern suburb, however, is a single long hill, up the steep side of which the housesclimb, row after row, until they reach the Church of St. Catherine, which crowns the very summit. In front of the city (that is eastward, and toward the Baltic), lie two other islands, connected by bridges withthe northern suburb. Still beyond is the Djurgård, or Deer-Park, asingularly picturesque island, nearly the whole of which is occupied bya public park, and the summer villas of the wealthy Stockholmers. Itsnatural advantages are superior to those of any other park in Europe. Even in April, when there was scarcely a sign of spring, its cliffs ofgrey rock, its rolling lawns of brown grass, and its venerable oaks, with their iron trunks and gnarled, contorted boughs, with blue glimpsesof ice-free water on all sides, attracted hundreds of visitors daily. The streets of Stockholm are, with but two or three exceptions, narrowand badly paved. The municipal regulations in regard to them appear tobe sadly deficient. They are quite as filthy as those of New-York, andthe American reader will therefore have some idea of their horridcondition. A few _trottoirs_ have been recently introduced, but even inthe Drottning-gatan, the principal street, they are barely wide enoughfor two persons to walk abreast. The pavements are rough, slippery, anddangerous both to man and beast. I have no doubt that the great numberof cripples in Stockholm is owing to this cause. On the other hand, thehouses are models of solidity and stability. They are all of stone, orbrick stuccoed over, with staircases of stone or iron, wood beingprohibited by law, and roofs of copper, slate or tiles. In fact, theSwedes have singularly luxurious ideas concerning roofs, spending muchmore money upon them, proportionately, than on the house itself. Youeven see wooden shanties with copper roofs, got up regardless ofexpense. The houses are well lighted (which is quite necessary in thedark streets), and supplied with double windows against the cold. Theair-tight Russian stove is universal. It has the advantage of keeping upsufficient warmth with a very small supply of fuel, but at the expenseof ventilation. I find nothing yet equal to the old-fashioned fireplacein this respect, though I must confess I prefer the Russian stove to ourhot-air furnaces. Carpets are very common in Sweden, and thus thedwellings have an air of warmth and comfort which is not found inGermany and other parts of the Continent. The arrangements for sleepingand washing are tolerable, though scanty, as compared with England, butthe cleanliness of Swedish houses makes amends for many deficiencies. The manner of living in Stockholm, nevertheless, is not very agreeableto the stranger. There is no hotel, except Kahn's, where one can obtainboth beds and meals. The practice is to hire rooms, generally with theprivilege of having your coffee in the morning, and to get your meals ata restaurant, of which there are many, tolerably cheap and notparticularly good. Even Davison's, the best and most fashionable, hasbut an ordinary _cuisine_. Rooms are quite dear--particularly during oursojourn, when the Diet was in session and the city crowded with countryvisitors--and the inclusive expenses of living were equal to Berlin andgreater than in Paris. I found that it cost just about as much to bestationary here, as to travel with post-horses in the Northernprovinces. The Swedes generally have a cup of coffee on getting out ofbed, or before, a substantial breakfast at nine, dinner at three, andtea in the evening. The wealthier families dine an hour or two later, but the crowds at the restaurants indicate the prevailing time. Dinner, and frequently breakfast, is prefaced with a _smörgås_ (butter-goose), consisting of anchovies, pickled herrings, cheese and brandy. Soup whichis generally sweet, comes in the middle and sometimes at the end ofdinner, and the universal dessert is preserved fruit covered withwhipped cream. I have had occasion to notice the fondness of the Swedesfor sugar, which some persons seem to apply to almost every dish, exceptfish and oysters. I have often seen them season crab soup with powderedsugar. A favourite dish is raw salmon, buried in the earth until it isquite sodden--a great delicacy, they say, but I have not yet been hungryenough to eat it. Meat, which is abundant, is rarely properly cooked, and game, of which Sweden has a great variety, is injured by beingswamped in sauces. He must be very fastidious, however, who cannot livepassably well in Stockholm, especially if he has frequent invitations todine with private families, many of whom have very excellent cooks. My Swedish friends all said, "You should see Stockholm in summer! Youhave passed the worst part of the whole year among us, and you leavejust when our fine days begin. " I needed no assurance, however, of thesummer charm of the place. In those long, golden evenings, which giveplace to an unfading twilight, when the birch is a network of silver andgreen, and the meadows are sown with the bright wild flowers of theNorth, those labyrinths of land and water must be truly enchanting. Butwere the glories of the Northern Summer increased tenfold, I could notmake my home where such a price must be paid for them. From the time ofour arrival, in February, until towards the close of April, the weatherwas of that kind which aggravates one to the loss of all patience. Wehad dull, raw, cloudy skies, a penetrating, unnerving, and depressingatmosphere, mud under foot, alternating with slushy snow, --in short, everything that is disagreeable in winter, without its brisk and bracingqualities. I found this season much more difficult to endure than allthe cold of Lapland, and in spite of pleasant society and the charms ofrest after a fatiguing journey, our sojourn in Stockholm was for a timesufficiently tedious. At first, we lived a rather secluded life in our rooms in theBeridarebansgatan, in the northern suburb, devoting ourselvesprincipally to gymnastics and the study of the Swedish language, --bothof which can be prosecuted to more advantage in Stockholm than anywhereelse. For, among the distinguished men of Sweden may be reckoned Ling, the inventor of what may be termed anatomical gymnastics. His system notonly aims at reducing to a science the muscular development of the body, but, by means of both active and passive movements, at reaching theseat of disease and stimulating the various organs to healthy action. Inthe former of these objects, Ling has certainly succeeded; there is noother system of muscular training that will bear comparison with his;and if he has to some extent failed in the latter, it is because, withthe enthusiasm of a man possessed by a new discovery, he claimed toomuch. His successor, Prof. Branting, possesses equal enthusiasm, and hisfaith in gymnastics, as a panacea for all human infirmities, is mostunbounded. The institution under his charge is supported by Government, and, in addition to the officers of the army and navy, who are obligedto make a complete gymnastic course, is largely attended by invalids ofall ages and classes. Neither of us required the system as a medical application. I wished toincrease the girth of my chest, somewhat diminished by a sedentary life, and Braisted needed a safety-valve for his surplus strength. However, the professor, by dint of much questioning, ascertained that one of uswas sometimes afflicted with cold feet, and the other with headaches, and thereupon clapped us both upon the sick list. On entering the hall, on the first morning of our attendance, a piece of paper containing themovements prescribed for our individual cases, was stuck in our bosoms. On inspecting the lists, we found we had ten movements apiece, and notwo of them alike. What they were we could only dimly guess from suchcabalistic terms as "_Stödgångst_, " "_Krhalfligg_, " "_Simhäng_, " or"_Högstrgrsitt_. " The hall, about eighty feet in length by thirty inheight, was furnished with the usual appliances for gymnasticexercises. Some fifty or sixty patients were present, part of whom werewalking up and down the middle passage with an air of great solemnity, while the others, gathered in various little groups on either side, appeared to be undergoing uncouth forms of torture. There was novoluntary exercise, if I except an old gentleman in a black velvet coat, who repeatedly suspended himself by the hands, head downwards, and whodied of apoplexy not long afterwards; every one was being exercisedupon. Here, a lathy young man, bent sideways over a spar, wasstruggling, with a very red face, to right himself, while a stoutteacher held him down; there, a corpulent gentleman, in the hands offive robust assistants, was having his body violently revolved upon thebase of his hip joints, as if they were trying to unscrew him from hislegs; and yonder again, an individual, suspended by his arms from across-bar, had his feet held up and his legs stretched apart by another, while a third pounded vigorously with closed fists upon his seat ofhonour. Now and then a prolonged yell, accompanied with all sorts ofburlesque variations, issued from the throats of the assembly. Theobject of this was at first not clear to me, but I afterwards discoveredthat the full use of the lungs was considered by Ling a very importantpart of the exercises. Altogether, it was a peculiar scene, and notwithout a marked grotesque character. On exhibiting my _matsedel_, or "bill of fare, " to the first teacher whohappened to be disengaged, I received my first movement, which consistedin being held with my back against a post, while I turned my body fromside to side against strong resistance, employing the muscles of thechest only. I was then told to walk for five minutes before taking thesecond movement. It is unnecessary to recapitulate the variouscontortions I was made to perform; suffice it to say, that I felt verysore after them, which Professor Branting considered a promising sign, and that, at the end of a month, I was taken off the sick list and putamong the _friskas_, or healthy patients, to whom more and severermovements, in part active, are allotted. This department was under thespecial charge of Baron Vegesach, an admirable teacher, and withal amaster of fencing with the bayonet, a branch of defensive art which theSwedes have the honour of originating. The drill of the young officersin bayonet exercise was one of the finest things of the kind I ever saw. I prospered so well under the Baron's tuition, that at the end of thesecond month I was able to climb a smooth mast, to run up ropes with myhands, and to perform various other previous impossibilities, while mychest had increased an inch and a half in circumference, the additionbeing solid muscle. During the time of my attendance I could not help but notice the effectof the discipline upon the other patients, especially the children. Theweak and listless gradually straightened themselves; the pale and sallowtook colour and lively expression; the crippled and paralytic recoveredthe use of their limbs; in short, all, with the exception of two orthree hypochondriacs, exhibited a very marked improvement. Thecheerfulness and geniality which pervaded the company, and of whichProfessor Branting himself was the best example, no doubt assisted thecure. All, both teachers and pupils, met on a platform of the mostabsolute equality, and willingly took turns in lending a hand whereverit was needed. I have had my feet held up by a foreign ambassador, whilea pair of Swedish counts applied the proper degree of resistance to themuscles of my arms and shoulders. The result of my observation andexperience was, that Ling's system of physical education is undoubtedlythe best in the world, and that, as a remedial agent in all cases ofcongenital weakness or deformity, as well as in those diseases whicharise from a deranged circulation, its value can scarcely beover-estimated. It may even afford indirect assistance in more seriousorganic diseases, but I do not believe that it is of much service inthose cases where chemical agencies are generally employed. ProfessorBranting, however, asserts that it is a specific for all diseaseswhatsoever, including consumption, malignant fevers, and venerealaffections. One thing at least is certain--that in an age when physicaltraining is most needed and most neglected, this system deserves to beintroduced into every civilised country, as an indispensable branch inthe education of youth. I found the Swedish language as easy to read as it is difficult to speakcorrectly. The simplicity of its structure, which differs but slightlyfrom English, accounts for the former quality, while the peculiar use ofthe definite article as a terminal syllable, attached to the noun, is agreat impediment to fluent speaking. The passive form of the verb alsorequires much practice before it becomes familiar, and the mode ofaddress in conversation is awkward and inconvenient beyond measure. Theword _you_, or its correspondent, is never used, except in speaking toinferiors; wherever it occurs in other languages, the title of theperson addressed must be repeated; as, for example: "How is the HerrJustizråd? I called at the Herr Justizråd's house this morning, but theHerr Justizråd was not at home. " Some of the more progressive Swedes areendeavouring to do away with this absurdity, by substituting the secondperson plural, _ni_, which is already used in literature, but even theyonly dare to use it in their own private circle. The Swedes, especiallyin Stockholm, speak with a peculiar drawl and singing accent, exactlysimilar to that which is often heard in Scotland. It is very inferior tothe natural, musical rhythm of Spanish, to which, in its vocalisation, Swedish has a great resemblance. Except Finnish, which is music itself, it is the most melodious of northern languages, and the mellow flow ofits poetry is often scarcely surpassed by the Italian. The infinitiveverb always ends in _a_, and the language is full of soft, glidingiambics, which give a peculiar grace to its poetry. It is rather singular that the Swedish prose, in point of finish andelegance, is far behind the Swedish poetry. One cause of this may be, that it is scarcely more than fifty years since the prose writers of thecountry began to use their native language. The works of Linnæus, Swedenborg, and other authors of the past century must now be translatedinto Swedish. Besides, there are two prose dialects--a conversationaland a declamatory, the latter being much more artificial and involvedthan the former. All public addresses, as well as prose documents of aweighty or serious character, must be spoken or written in this pompousand antiquated style, owing to which, naturally, the country is almostdestitute of orators. But the poets, --especially men of the sparklingfancy of Bellman, or the rich lyrical inspiration of Tegner, are not tobe fettered by such conventionalities; and they have given the verse ofSweden an ease, and grace, and elegance, which one vainly seeks in itsprose. In Stockholm, the French taste, so visible in the manners of thepeople, has also affected the language, and a number of French words andforms of expression, which have filtered through society, from thehigher to the lower classes, are now in general use. The spelling, however, is made to conform to Swedish pronunciation, and one is amusedat finding on placards such words as "_trottoar_, " "_salong_, " and"_paviljong_. " No country is richer in song-literature than Sweden. The popular songsand ballads of the different provinces, wedded to airs as original andcharacteristic as the words, number many hundreds. There are few Swedeswho cannot sing, and I doubt whether any country in Europe would be ableto furnish so many fine voices. Yet the taste for what is foreign andunaccustomed rules, and the minstrels of the cafes and the Djurgård arealmost without exception German. Latterly, two or three bands of nativesingers have been formed, who give concerts devoted entirely to thecountry melodies of Sweden; and I believe they have been tolerablysuccessful. In these studies, relieved occasionally by rambles over the hills, whenever there was an hour's sunshine, and by occasional evenings withSwedish, English, and American friends, we passed the months of Marchand April, waiting for the tardy spring. Of the shifting and picturesqueviews which Stockholm presents to the stranger's eye, from whateverpoint he beholds her, we never wearied; but we began at last to tire ofour ice-olation, and to look forward to the reopening of the GothaCanal, as a means of escape. Day after day it was a new satisfaction tobehold the majestic palace crowning the island-city and looking far andwide over the frozen lakes; the tall, slender spire of the Riddarholm, soaring above the ashes of Charles XII. And Gustavus Adolphus, wasalways a welcome sight; but we had seen enough of the hideous statueswhich ornament the public squares, (Charles XII. Not among them, and theimbecile Charles XIII. Occupying the best place); we grew tired of themonotonous perambulators on the Forrbro, and the tameness and samenessof Stockholm life in winter: and therefore hailed the lengthening dayswhich heralded our deliverance. As to the sights of the capital, are they not described in theguide-books? The champion of the Reformation lies in his chapel, under acloud of his captured banners: opposite to him, the magnificent madmanof the North, with hundreds of Polish and Russian ensigns rustling abovehis heads. In the royal armory you see the sword and the bloody shirt ofthe one, the bullet-pierced hat and cloak of the other, still coatedwith the mud of the trench at Fredrickshall. There are robes and weaponsof the other Carls and Gustavs, but the splendour of Swedish history isembodied in these two names, and in that of Gustavus Vasa, who liesentombed in the old cathedral at Upsala. When I had grasped theirswords, and the sabre of Czar Peter, captured at Narva, I felt thatthere were no other relics in Sweden which could make my heart throb abeat the faster. CHAPTER XVIII. MANNERS AND MORALS OF STOCKHOLM. As a people, the Swedes are very hospitable, and particularly so towardforeigners. There is perhaps no country in Europe where travellers aretreated with so much kindness and allowed so many social privileges. This is fortunate, as the conventionalities of the country are morerigid than the laws of the Medes and Persians. Nothing excites greaterscandal than an infraction of the numberless little formalities withwhich the descendants of the honest, spontaneous, impulsive oldScandinavians have, somehow or other, allowed themselves to be fettered, and were not all possible allowance made for the stranger, he would havebut a dismal time of it. Notwithstanding these habits have become asecond nature, they are still a false nature, and give a painfully stiffand constrained air to society. The Swedes pride themselves on being thepolitest people in Europe. Voltaire called them the "Frenchmen of theNorth, " and they are greatly flattered by the epithet. But how muchbetter, to call themselves _Swedes_?--to preserve the fine, manlycharacteristics of their ancient stock, rather than imitate a people soalien to them in blood, in character, and in antecedents. Thosemeaningless social courtesies which sit well enough upon the gay, volatile, mercurial Frenchman, seem absurd affectations when practicedby the tall, grave, sedate Scandinavian. The intelligent Swedes feelthis, but they are powerless to make headway against the influence of acourt which was wholly French, even before Bernadotte's time. "We are arace of apes, " said one of them to me bitterly. Gustavus III. Wasthoroughly French in his tastes, but the ruin of Swedish nationality inStockholm was already commenced when he ascended the throne. Stockholm manners, at present, are a curious mixture of English andFrench, the latter element, of course, being predominant. In costume, the gentlemen are English, with exaggeration. Nowhere are to be seensuch enormously tall and stiff black chimney-pots (misnamed _hats_), nowhere such straight-cut overcoats, descending to the very heels. Youmight stick all the men you see into pasteboard cards, like a row ofpins, so precisely are they clothed upon the same model. But when youmeet one of these grim, funereal figures, he pulls off his hat with apoliteness which is more than French; he keeps it off, perhaps, while heis speaking; you shake hands and accept his invitation to enter hishouse. After you are within, he greets you a second time with the sameceremonies, as if you had then first met; he says, "_Tak for sist!_"(equivalent to; "thank you for the pleasure of your company the lasttime we met!") and, after your visit is over, you part with equalformality. At dinner the guests stand gravely around the table withclasped hands, before sitting down. This is repeated on rising, afterwhich they bow to each other and shake hands with the host and hostess. Formerly they used to say "I thank you for the meal, " a custom stillretained in Denmark and Norway. Not long ago the guests were obliged tomake a subsequent visit of ceremony to thank the host for hisentertainment, and he was obliged to invite them all to a second dinner, in consequence thereof; so that giving one dinner always involved givingtwo. Fortunately the obligation was cancelled by the second, or thevisits and dinners might have gone on alternately, _ad infinitum_. At dinners and evening parties, white gloves and white cravats areinvariably worn, and generally white vests. The same custom is observedat funerals, even the drivers of the hearse and carriages beingfurnished with resplendent white gloves for the occasion. I have ahorror of white cravats, and took advantage of the traveller's privilegeto wear a black one. I never could understand why, in England, where theboundaries of caste are so distinctly marked, a gentleman's full dressshould be his servant's livery. The chimney-pots are no protection tothe head in raw or very cold weather, and it required no little couragein me to appear in fur or felt. "I wish I could wear such a comfortablehat, " said a Swede to me; "but I _dare not_; you are a traveller, and itis permitted; but a Swede would lose his position in society, if he wereto do so. " Another gentleman informed me that his own sisters refused toappear in the streets with him, because he wore a cap. A former EnglishConsul greatly shocked the people by carrying home his own marketing. Afew gentlemen have independence enough to set aside, in their ownhouses, some of the more disagreeable features of this conventionalism, and the success of two or three, who held weekly soirees through thewinter, on a more free and unrestrained plan, may in the end restoresomewhat of naturalness and spontaneity to the society of Stockholm. The continual taking off of your hat to everybody you know, is a greatannoyance to many strangers. A lift of the hat, as in Germany, is notsufficient. You must remove it entirely, and hold it in the air a secondor two before you replace it. King Oscar once said to an acquaintance ofmine, who was commiserating him for being obliged to keep his hat off, the whole length of the Drottning-gatan, in a violent snow-storm: "Youare quite right; it was exceedingly disagreeable, and I could not helpwishing that instead of being king of Sweden, I were king of Thibet, where, according to Huc, the polite salutation is simply to stick outyour tongue. " The consideration extended to foreigners is, I am told, quite withdrawn after they become residents; so that, as an Englishmaninformed me, Stockholm is much more pleasant the first year than thesecond. The principle, on the whole, is about the same as governsEnglish, and most American society, only in Sweden its tyranny is moreseverely felt, on account of the French imitations which have beenengrafted upon it. I do not wish to be understood as saying a word in censure of thatgenial courtesy which is characteristic of the Swedes, not less of the_bonder_, or country farmers, than of the nobility. They are by nature acourteous people, and if, throughout the country, something of theprimness and formality of ancient manners has been preserved, it therather serves to give a quaint and picturesque grace to society. Theaffectation of French manners applies principally to the capital, which, both in manners and morals, can by no means be taken as astandard for the whole country. The Swedes are neither licentious, norextravagantly over-mannered: the Stockholmers are both. During the wholeof our journey to Lapland, we were invariably treated with a courtesywhich bordered on kindness, and had abundant opportunities of noticingthe general amenity which exists in the intercourse even of the poorestclasses. The only really rude people we saw, were travelling traders, especially those from the capital, who thought to add to theirimportance by a little swaggering. I recollect hearing of but a single instance in which the usualworld-wide rules of hospitality were grossly violated. This occurred toan English traveller, who spent some time in the interior of thecountry. While taking tea one evening with a prominent family of theprovince, he happened to make use of his thumb and fore-finger inhelping himself to a lump of sugar. The mistress of the houseimmediately sent out the servant, who reappeared after a short time withanother sugar-bowl, filled with fresh lumps. Noticing this, thetraveller, in order to ascertain whether his harmless deviation fromSwedish customs had really contaminated the whole sugar-bowl, sweetenedhis second cup in the same manner. The result was precisely the same:the servant was again sent out, and again returned with a fresh supply. The traveller, thereupon, coolly walked to the stove, opened the door, and threw in his cup, saucer, and tea-spoon, affecting to take it forgranted that they never could be used again. Speaking of King Oscar reminds me that I should not fail to say a wordabout this liberal and enlightened monarch. There is probably no king inEurope at present, who possesses such extensive acquirements, or isanimated by a more genuine desire for the good of his kingdom. The slowprogress which Sweden has made in introducing needful reforms is owingto the conservative spirit of the nobility and the priesthood, whopossess half the legislative power. I do not believe there is a greaterenemy to progress than an established church. Oscar is deservedlypopular throughout Sweden, and I wish I could believe that his successorwill exhibit equal intelligence and liberality. During my stay I saw allthe members of the Royal Family frequently, and once had an informalself-presentation to the whole of them. I was descending the stairway ofKahn's Hotel one afternoon, when a tall, black-bearded, Frenchygentleman coming up, brushed so close to me in the narrow passage thathe received the full benefit of a cloud of smoke which I wasejaculating. It was the Crown Prince, as a servant whispered to me, butas my cigar was genuine Havana, and he is said to be a connoisseur ofthe article, there was no harm done. As I reached the street door adragoon dashed up, preceding the carriages containing the Royal Family, who were coming to view Professor Enslen's panoramas. First, the CrownPrincess, with her children; she bowed gracefully in answer to mygreeting. The Princess Eugenia, a lady of twenty-seven, or thereabouts, with a thoroughly cheerful and amiable face, came next and nodded, smiling. With her was the Queen, a daughter of Eugene Beauharnais, ahandsome woman for her years, with the dark hair and eyes of hergrandmother, Josephine. King Oscar followed, at the head of a companyof officers and nobles, among whom was his second son, Prince Oscar, thehandsomest young man in Stockholm. He wore his Admiral's uniform, andmade me a naval salute as he passed. The King is about medium height, with a symmetrical head, a bold, finely-cut nose, keen, intelligenteyes, and a heavy grey moustache. There was something gallant, dashing, and manly in his air, despite his fifty-seven years. He gave me theimpression of an honest, energetic and thoroughly accomplished man; andthis is the character he bears throughout Sweden, except with a smallclass, who charge him with being insincere, and too much under theinfluence of the Queen, against whom, however, they can find no charge, except that of her Catholicism. I was sorry to notice, not only in Stockholm, but more or lessthroughout Sweden, a spirit of detraction in regard to everythingSwedish. Whenever I mentioned with admiration the name of adistinguished Swede, I was almost always sure to hear, in return, somedisparaging remark, or a story to his disadvantage. Yet, singularlyenough, the Swedes are rather sensitive to foreign criticism, seeming toreserve for themselves the privilege of being censorious. No amount ofrenown, nor even the sanctity which death gives to genius, can prevent acertain class of them from exhibiting the vices and weaknesses of theircountrymen. Much the severest things which I heard said about Sweden, were said by Swedes themselves, and I was frequently obliged to relyupon my own contrary impressions, to protect me from the chance of beingpersuaded to paint things worse than they really are. Just before leaving Stockholm I made application, through the Hon. Mr. Schroeder, our Minister Resident, and Baron Lagerheim, for the privilegeof an interview with the king. A few days previously, however, he hadbeen attacked with that illness which has obliged him to withdraw fromthe labours of government, and was advised by his physicians to receiveno one. He sent me a very kind message, with an invitation to renew myrequest as soon as his health should be restored. Gentlemen who hadopportunities of knowing the fact, assured me that his health broke downunder an accumulation of labour and anxiety, in his endeavours to bringthe question of religious liberty before the Diet--a measure in which hehad to contend with the united influence of the clergy, the House ofPeasants, whom the clergy rule to a great extent, and a portion of theHouse of Nobles. It is not often that a king is in advance of thegeneral sentiment of his people, and in losing the services of Oscar, Ifear that Sweden has lost her best man. The Crown Prince, now PrinceRegent, is said to be amiably weak in his character, rather reactionaryin his views, and very ambitious of military glory. At least, that isthe average of the various opinions which I heard expressed concerninghim. After speaking of the manners of Stockholm, I must not close thischapter without saying a few words about its morals. It has been calledthe most licentious city in Europe, and, I have no doubt, with the mostperfect justice. Vienna may surpass it in the amount of conjugalinfidelity, but certainly not in general incontinence. Very nearly halfthe registered births are illegitimate, to say nothing of theillegitimate children born _in_ wedlock. Of the servant-girls, shop-girls, and seamstresses in the city, it is very safe to say thatscarcely ten out of a hundred are chaste, while, as rakish young Swedeshave coolly informed me, many girls of respectable parentage, belongingto the middle class, are not much better. The men, of course, are muchworse than the women, and even in Paris one sees fewer physical signs ofexcessive debauchery. Here, the number of broken-down young men, andblear-eyed, hoary sinners, is astonishing. I have never been in anyplace where licentiousness was so open and avowed--and yet, where theslang of a sham morality was so prevalent. There are no houses ofprostitution in Stockholm, and the city would be scandalised at the ideaof allowing such a thing. A few years ago two were established and thefact was no sooner known than a virtuous mob arose and violently pulledthem down! At the restaurants, young blades order their dinners of thefemale waiters, with an arm around their waists, while the old men placetheir hands unblushingly upon their bosoms. All the baths in Stockholmare attended by women (generally middle-aged and hideous, I mustconfess), who perform the usual scrubbing and shampooing with thegreatest nonchalance. One does not wonder when he is told of young menwho have passed safely through the ordeals of Berlin and Paris, and havecome at last to Stockholm to be ruined. [B] It is but fair to say that the Swedes account for the large proportionof illegitimate births, by stating that many unfortunate females come upfrom the country to hide their shame in the capital, which is no doubttrue. Everything that I have said has been derived from residents ofStockholm, who, proud as they are, and sensitive, cannot conceal thisglaring depravity. The population of Stockholm, as is proved bystatistics, has only been increased during the last fifty years byimmigration from the country, the number of deaths among the inhabitantsexceeding the births by several hundreds every year. I was once speakingwith a Swede about these facts, which he seemed inclined to doubt. "But, " said I, "they are derived from your own statistics. " "Well, " heanswered, with a naïve attempt to find some compensating good, "you mustat least admit that the Swedish statistics are as exact as any in theworld!" Drunkenness is a leading vice among the Swedes, as we had dailyevidence. Six years ago the consumption of brandy throughout the kingdomwas _nine gallons_ for every man, woman, and child annually; but it hasdecreased considerably since then, mainly through the manufacture ofbeer and porter. "_Bajerskt öl_" (Bavarian beer) is now to be hadeverywhere, and is rapidly becoming the favourite drink of the people. Sweden and the United States will in the end establish the fact thatlager beer is more efficacious in preventing intemperance than anyamount of prohibitory law. Brandy-drinking is still, nevertheless, oneof the greatest curses of Sweden. It is no unusual thing to see boys oftwelve or fourteen take their glass of fiery _finkel_ before dinner. Thecelebrated Swedish punch, made of arrack, wine, and sugar, is auniversal evening drink, and one of the most insidious ever invented, despite its agreeable flavor. There is a movement in favor of totalabstinence, but it seems to have made but little progress, except as itis connected with some of the new religious ideas, which are nowpreached throughout the country. I have rarely witnessed a sadder example of ruin, than one evening in aStockholm café. A tall, distinguished-looking man of about forty, in anadvanced state of drunkenness, was seated at a table opposite to us. Helooked at me awhile, apparently endeavoring to keep hold of some thoughtwith which his mind was occupied. Rising at last he staggered across theroom, stood before me, and repeated the words of Bellman: "Så vandra våra stora män' Från ljuset ned til skuggan. "[C] A wild, despairing laugh followed the lines, and he turned away, butcame back again and again to repeat them. He was a nobleman of excellentfamily, a man of great intellectual attainments, who, a few years ago, was considered one of the most promising young men in Sweden. I saw himfrequently afterwards, and always in the same condition, but he neveraccosted me again. The Swedes say the same thing of Bellman himself, andof Tegner, and many others, with how much justice I care not to know, for a man's faults are to be accounted for to God, and not to agossiping public. FOOTNOTES: [B] The substance of the foregoing paragraph was contained in a letterpublished in _The New-York Tribune_ during my travels in the North, andwhich was afterwards translated and commented upon by the Swedishpapers. The latter charged me with having drawn too dark a picture and Itherefore took some pains to test my statements, both by means of theGovernment statistics, and the views of my Swedish friends. I see noreason to change my first impression: had I accepted all that was toldme by natives of the capital, I should have made the picture muchdarker. The question is simply whether there is much difference betweenthe general adoption of illicit connections, or the existence of openprostitution. The latter is almost unknown; the former is almostuniversal, the supply being kept up by the miserable rates of wages paidto female servants and seamstresses. The former get, on an average, fifty _rigsdaler_ ($13) per year, out of which they must clothethemselves: few of the latter can make one rigsdaler a day. Theseconnections are also encouraged by the fact, that marriage legitimatesall the children previously born. In fact, during the time of my visitto Stockholm, a measure was proposed in the House of Clergy, securing tobastards the same right of inheritance, as to legitimate children. Suchmeasures, however just they may be so far as the innocent offspring of aguilty connection are concerned, have a direct tendency to impair thesanctity of marriage, and consequently the general standard of morality. This, the most vital of all the social problems, is strangely neglected. The diseases and excesses which it engenders are far more devastatingthan those which spring from any other vice, and yet no philanthropistis bold enough to look the question in the face. The virtuous shrinkfrom it, the vicious don't care about it, the godly simply condemn, andthe ungodly indulge--and so the world rolls on, and hundreds ofthousands go down annually to utter ruin. It is useless to attempt theextirpation of a vice which is inherent in the very nature of man, andthe alternative of either utterly ignoring, or of attempting to checkand regulate it, is a question of the most vital importance to the wholehuman race. [C] "Thus our great men wander from the light down into the shades. " CHAPTER XIX JOURNEY TO GOTTENBURG AND COPENHAGEN. I never knew a more sudden transition from winter to summer than weexperienced on the journey southward from Stockholm. When we left thatcity on the evening of the 6th of May, there were no signs of springexcept a few early violets and anemones on the sheltered southern banksin Haga Park; the grass was still brown and dead, the trees bare, andthe air keen; but the harbour was free from ice and the canal open, andour winter isolation was therefore at an end. A little circulationentered into the languid veins of society; steamers from Germany beganto arrive; fresh faces appeared in the streets, and less formalcostumes--merchants and bagmen only, it is true, but people of a moredashing and genial air. We were evidently, as the Swedes said, leavingStockholm just as it began to be pleasant and lively. The steamer left the Riddarholm pier at midnight, and took her waywestward up the Mälar Lake to Södertelje. The boats which ply on theGotha canal are small, but neat and comfortable. The price of a passageto Gottenburg, a distance of 370 miles, is about $8. 50. This, however, does not include meals, which are furnished at a fixed price, amountingto $6 more. The time occupied by the voyage varies from two and a halfto four days. In the night we passed through the lock at Södertelje, where St. Olaf, when a heathen Viking, cut a channel for his ships intothe long Baltic estuary which here closely approaches the lake, and inthe morning found ourselves running down the eastern shore of Sweden, under the shelter of its fringe of jagged rocky islets. Towards noon weleft the Baltic, and steamed up the long, narrow Bay of Söderköping, passing, on the way, the magnificent ruins of Stegeborg Castle, thefirst mediæval relic I had seen in Sweden. Its square massive walls, andtall round tower of grey stone, differed in no respect from those ofcontemporary ruins in Germany. Before reaching Söderköping, we entered the canal, a very complete andsubstantial work of the kind, about eighty feet in breadth, but muchmore crooked than would seem to be actually necessary. For this reasonthe boats make but moderate speed, averaging not more than six or sevenmiles an hour, exclusive of the detention at the locks. The country isundulating, and neither rich nor populous before reaching the beautifulRoxen Lake, beyond which we entered upon a charming district. Here thecanal rises, by eleven successive locks, to the rich uplands separatingthe Roxen from the Wetter, a gently rolling plain, chequered, so far asthe eye could reach, with green squares of springing wheat and the darkmould of the newly ploughed barley fields. While the boat was passingthe locks, we walked forward to a curious old church, called VretaKloster. The building dates from the year 1128, and contains the tombsof three Swedish kings, together with that of the Count Douglas, whofled hither from Scotland in the time of Cromwell. The Douglas estate isin this neighbourhood, and is, I believe, still in the possession of thefamily. The church must at one time have presented a fine, venerableappearance: but all its dark rich colouring and gilding are now buriedunder a thick coat of white-wash. We had already a prophecy of the long summer days of the North, in theperpetual twilight which lingered in the sky, moving around from sunsetto sunrise. During the second night we crossed the Wetter Lake, which Idid not see; for when I came on deck we were already on the Viken, themost beautiful sheet of water between Stockholm and Gottenburg. Itsirregular shores, covered with forests of fir and birch, thrust out longnarrow headlands which divide it into deep bays, studded with wildwooded islands. But the scenery was still that of winter, except in theabsence of ice and snow. We had not made much southing, but we expectedto find the western side of Sweden much warmer than the eastern. Thehighest part of the canal, more than 300 feet above the sea, was nowpassed, however, and as we descended the long barren hills towards theWener Lake I found a few early wild flowers in the woods. In theafternoon we came upon the Wener, the third lake in Europe, being onehundred miles in extent by about fifty in breadth. To the west, itspread away to a level line against the sky; but, as I looked southward, I perceived two opposite promontories, with scattered islands between, dividing the body of water into almost equal portions. The scenery ofthe Wener has great resemblance to that of the northern portion of LakeMichigan. Further down on the eastern shore, the hill of Kinnekulle, thehighest land in Southern Sweden, rises to the height of nearly athousand feet above the water, with a graceful and very gradual sweep;but otherwise the scenery is rather tame, and, I suspect, depends formost of its beauty upon the summer foliage. There were two or three intelligent and agreeable passengers on board, who showed a more than usual knowledge of America and her institutions. The captain, however, as we walked the deck together, betrayed the samegeneral impression which prevails throughout the Continent (Germany inparticular), that we are a thoroughly _material_ people, having littletaste for or appreciation of anything which is not practical anddistinctly utilitarian. Nothing can be further from the truth; yet Ihave the greatest difficulty in making people comprehend that a truefeeling for science, art, and literature can co-exist with our greatpractical genius. There is more intellectual activity in the Free Statesthan in any other part of the world, a more general cultivation, and, taking the collective population, I venture to say, a more enlightenedtaste. Nowhere are greater sums spent for books and works of art, or forthe promotion of scientific objects. Yet this cry of "Materialism" hasbecome the cant and slang of European talk concerning America, and isobtruded so frequently and so offensively that I have sometimes beeninclined to doubt whether the good breeding of Continental society hasnot been too highly rated. While on the steamer, I heard an interesting story of a Swedishnobleman, who is at present attempting a practical protest against theabsurd and fossilised ideas by which his class is governed. The nobilityof Sweden are as proud as they are poor, and, as the father's title isinherited by each of his sons, the country is overrun with Counts andBarons, who, repudiating any means of support that is not somehowconnected with the service of the government, live in a continual stateof debt and dilapidation. Count R----, however, has sense enough to knowthat honest labour is always honourable, and has brought up his eldestson to earn his living by the work of his own hands. For the past threeyears, the latter has been in the United States, working as aday-labourer on farms and on Western railroads. His experiences, Ilearn, have not been agreeable, but he is a young man of too much spiritand courage to give up the attempt, and has hitherto refused to listento the entreaties of his family, that he shall come home and take chargeof one of his father's estates. The second son is now a clerk in amercantile house in Gottenburg, while the Count has given his daughterin marriage to a radical and untitled editor, whose acquaintance I wasafterwards so fortunate as to make, and who confirmed the entire truthof the story. We were to pass the locks at Trollhätta in the middle of the night, butI determined to visit the celebrated falls of the Gotha River, even atsuch a time, and gave orders that we should be called. The stupid boy, however, woke up the wrong passenger, and the last locks were reachedbefore the mistake was discovered. By sunrise we had reached Lilla Edet, on the Gotha River, where the buds were swelling on the early trees, andthe grass, in sunny places, showed a little sprouting greenness. We shotrapidly down the swift brown stream, between brown, bald, stony hills, whose forests have all been stripped off to feed the hostile camp-firesof past centuries. Bits of bottom land, held in the curves of the river, looked rich and promising, and where the hills fell back a little, therewere groves and country-houses--but the scenery, in general, was bleakand unfriendly, until we drew near Gottenburg. Two round, detachedforts, built according to Vauban's ideas (which the Swedes say he stolefrom Sweden, where they were already in practice) announced ourapproach, and before noon we were alongside the pier. Here, to my greatsurprise, a Custom-house officer appeared and asked us to open ourtrunks. "But we came by the canal from Stockholm!" "That makes nodifference, " he replied; "your luggage must be examined. " I thenappealed to the captain, who stated that, in consequence of thesteamer's being obliged to enter the Baltic waters for two or threehours between Södertelje and Söderköping, the law took it for grantedthat we might have boarded some foreign vessel during that time andprocured contraband goods. In other words, though sailing in a narrowsound, between the Swedish islands and the Swedish coast, we hadvirtually been in a foreign country! It would scarcely be believed thatthis sagacious law is of quite recent enactment. We remained until the next morning in Gottenburg. This is, in everyrespect, a more energetic and wide-awake place than Stockholm. It hasnot the same unrivalled beauty of position, but is more liberally laidout and kept in better order. Although the population is only about40, 000, its commerce is much greater than that of the capital, and soare, proportionately, its wealth and public spirit. The MagisterHedlund, a very intelligent and accomplished gentleman, to whom I had aletter from Mügge, the novelist, took me up the valley a distance offive or six miles, to a very picturesque village among the hills, whichis fast growing into a manufacturing town. Large cotton, woollen andpaper mills bestride a strong stream, which has such a fall that itleaps from one mill-wheel to another for the distance of nearly half amile. On our return, we visited a number of wells hollowed in the rockystrata of the hills, to which the country people have given the name of"The Giant's Pots. " A clergyman of the neighbourhood, even, has writtena pamphlet to prove that they were the work of the antediluvian giants, who excavated them for the purpose of mixing dough for their loaves ofbread and batter for their puddings. They are simply those holes which apebble grinds in a softer rock, under the rotary action of a current ofwater, but on an immense scale, some of them being ten feet in diameter, by fifteen or eighteen in depth. At Herr Hedlund's house, I met a numberof gentlemen, whose courtesy and intelligence gave me a very favourableimpression of the society of the place. The next morning, at five o'clock, the steamer Viken, from Christiania, arrived, and we took passage for Copenhagen. After issuing from the_Skärgaard_, or rocky archipelago which protects the approach toGottenburg from the sea, we made a direct course to Elsinore, down theSwedish coast, but too distant to observe more than its general outline. This part of Sweden, however--the province of Halland--is very rough andstony, and not until after passing the Sound does one see the fertilehills and vales of Scania. The Cattegat was as smooth as an inland sea, and our voyage could not have been pleasanter. In the afternoon Zealandrose blue from the wave, and the increase in the number of small sailingcraft denoted our approach to the Sound. The opposite shores drew nearerto each other, and finally the spires of Helsingborg, on the Swedishshore, and the square mass of Kronborg Castle, under the guns of whichthe Sound dues have been so long demanded, appeared in sight. In spiteof its bare, wintry aspect, the panorama was charming. The picturesqueGothic buttresses and gables of Kronborg rose above the zigzag of itsturfed outworks; beyond were the houses and gardens of Helsingör(Elsinore)--while on the glassy breast of the Sound a fleet of merchantvessels lay at anchor, and beyond, the fields and towns of Swedengleamed in the light of the setting sun. Yet here, again, I must findfault with Campbell, splendid lyrist as he is. We should have beensailing "By thy _wild and stormy steep_, Elsinore!" only that the level shore, with its fair gardens and groves wouldn'tadmit the possibility of such a thing. The music of the line remains thesame, but you must not read it on the spot. There was a beautiful American clipper at anchor off the Castle. "There, " said a Danish passenger to me, "is one of the ships which havetaken from us the sovereignty of the Sound. " "I am very glad of it, " Ireplied; "and I can only wonder why the maritime nations of Europe haveso long submitted to such an imposition. " "I am glad, also, " said he, "that the question has at last been settled, and our privilege givenup--and I believe we are all, even the Government itself, entirelysatisfied with the arrangement. " I heard the same opinion afterwardsexpressed in Copenhagen, and felt gratified, as an American, to hear theresult attributed to the initiative taken by our Government; but I alsoremembered the Camden and Amboy Railroad Company, and could not helpwishing that the same principle might be applied at home. We have aDenmark, lying between New-York and Philadelphia, and I have often paid_sand_ dues for crossing her territory. At dusk, we landed under the battlements of Copenhagen. "Are youtravellers or merchants?" asked the Custom-house officers. "Travellers, "we replied. "Then, " was the answer, "there is no necessity for examiningyour trunks, " and we were politely ushered out at the opposite door, anddrove without further hindrance to a hotel. A gentleman from Stockholmhad said to me: "When you get to Copenhagen, you will find yourself inEurope:" and I was at once struck with the truth of his remark. AlthoughCopenhagen is by no means a commercial city--scarcely more so thanStockholm--its streets are gay, brilliant and bustling, and have an airof life and joyousness which contrasts strikingly with the gravity ofthe latter capital. From without, it makes very little impression, beingbuilt on a low, level ground, and surrounded by high earthenfortifications, but its interior is full of quaint and attractivepoints. There is already a strong admixture of the German element in thepopulation, softening by its warmth and frankness the Scandinavianreserve. In their fondness for out-door recreation, the Danes quiteequal the Viennese, and their Summer-garden of Tivoli is one of thelargest and liveliest in all Europe. In costume, there is such a thingas individuality; in manners, somewhat of independence. The Danishnature appears to be more pliant and flexible than the Swedish, but Icannot judge whether the charge of inconstancy and dissimulation, whichI have heard brought against it, is just. With regard to morals, Copenhagen is said to be an improvement upon Stockholm. During our short stay of three days, we saw the principal sights of theplace. The first, and one of the pleasantest to me, was the park ofRosenborg Palace, with its fresh, green turf, starred with dandelions, and its grand avenues of chestnuts and lindens, just starting into leaf. On the 11th of May, we found spring at last, after six months ofuninterrupted winter. I don't much enjoy going the round of a new city, attended by a valet-de-place, and performing the programme laid down bya guide-book, nor is it an agreeable task to describe such things incatalogue style; so I shall merely say that the most interesting thingsin Copenhagen are the Museum of Northern Antiquities, the HistoricalCollections in Rosenborg Palace, Thorwaldsen's Museum, and the Church ofour Lady, containing the great sculptor's statues of Christ and theApostles. We have seen very good casts of the latter in New-York, butone must visit the Museum erected by the Danish people, which is alsoThorwaldsen's mausoleum, to learn the number, variety and beauty of hisworks. Here are the casts of between three and four hundred statues, busts and bas reliefs, with a number in marble. No artist has ever hadso noble a monument. On the day after my arrival, I sent a note to Hans Christian Andersen, reminding him of the greeting which he had once sent me through a mutualfriend, and asking him to appoint an hour for me to call upon him. Thesame afternoon, as I was sitting in my room, the door quietly opened, and a tall, loosely-jointed figure entered. He wore a neat evening dressof black, with a white cravat; his head was thrown back, and his plain, irregular features wore an expression of the greatest cheerfulness andkindly humour. I recognised him at once, and forgetting that we hadnever met--so much did he seem like an old, familiar acquaintance--criedout "Andersen!" and jumped up to greet him. "Ah, " said he stretching outboth his hands, "here you are! Now I should have been vexed if you hadgone through Copenhagen and I had not known it. " He sat down, and I hada delightful hour's chat with him. One sees the man so plainly in hisworks, that his readers may almost be said to know him personally. He isthoroughly simple and natural, and those who call him egotistical forgetthat his egotism is only a naïve and unthinking sincerity, like that ofa child. In fact, he is the youngest man for his years that I ever knew. "When I was sixteen, " said he, "I used to think to myself, 'when I amtwenty-four, then will I be old indeed'--but now I am fifty-two, and Ihave just the same feeling of youth as at twenty. " He was greatlydelighted when Braisted, who was in the room with me, spoke of havingread his "Improvisatore" in the Sandwich Islands. "Why, is itpossible?" he exclaimed: "when I hear of my books going so far aroundthe earth, I sometimes wonder if it can be really true that I havewritten them. " He explained to me the plot of his new novel, "To Be, orNot To Be, " and ended by presenting me with the illustrated edition ofhis stories. "Now, don't forget me, " said he, with a delightful entreatyin his, voice, as he rose to leave, "for we shall meet again. Were itnot for sea-sickness, I should see you in America; and who knows but Imay come, in spite of it?" God bless you, Andersen! I said, in mythoughts. It is so cheering to meet a man whose very weaknesses are madeattractive through the perfect candour of his nature! Goldschmidt, the author of "The Jew, " whose acquaintance I made, ishimself a Jew, and a man of great earnestness and enthusiasm. He is theeditor of the "North and South, " a monthly periodical, and had justcompleted, as he informed me, a second romance, which was soon to bepublished. Like most of the authors and editors in Northern Europe, heis well acquainted with American literature. Professor Rafn, the distinguished archæologist of Northern lore, isstill as active as ever, notwithstanding he is well advanced in years. After going up an innumerable number of steps, I found him at the verytop of a high old building in the _Kronprinzensgade_, in a study crammedwith old Norsk and Icelandic volumes. He is a slender old man, with athin face, and high, narrow head, clear grey eyes, and a hale red on hischeeks. The dust of antiquity does not lie very heavily on his greylocks; his enthusiasm for his studies is of that fresh and livelycharacter which mellows the whole nature of the man. I admired andenjoyed it, when, after being fairly started on his favourite topic, heopened one of his own splendid folios, and read me some ringing stanzasof Icelandic poetry. He spoke much of Mr. Marsh, our former minister toTurkey, whose proficiency in the northern languages he considered veryremarkable. CHAPTER XX. RETURN TO THE NORTH. --CHRISTIANIA. I was obliged to visit both Germany and England, before returning tospend the summer in Norway. As neither of those countries comes withinthe scope of the present work, I shall spare the reader a recapitulationof my travels for six weeks after leaving Copenhagen. Midsummer's Daywas ten days past before I was ready to resume the journey, and therewas no time to be lost, if I wished to see the midnight sun from thecliffs of the North Cape. I therefore took the most direct route, fromLondon, by the way of Hull, whence a steamer was to sail on the 3rd ofJuly for Christiania. We chose one of the steamers of the English line, to our subsequentregret, as the Norwegian vessels are preferable, in most respects. Iwent on board on Friday evening, and on asking for my berth, was takeninto a small state-room, containing ten. "Oh, there's only _seven_gentleman goin' in here, this time, " said the steward, noticing my lookof dismay, "and then you can sleep on a sofa in the saloon, if you likeit better. " On referring to the steamer's framed certificate, I foundthat she was 250 tons' burden, and constructed to carry 171 cabin and230 deck passengers! The state-room for ten passengers had a singlewash-basin, but I believe we had as many as four small towels, which wasa source of congratulation. "What a jolly nice boat it is!" I heard oneof the English passengers exclaim. The steward, who stood up for thedignity of the vessel, said: "Oh, you'll find it very pleasant; we 'aveonly twenty passengers, and we once 'ad heighty-four. " In the morning we were upon the North Sea, rolling with a short, nauseating motion, under a dismal, rainy sky. "It always rains when youleave Hull, " said the mate, "and it always rains when you come back toit. " I divided my time between sea sickness and Charles Reade's novel of"Never too Late to Mend, " a cheery companion under such circumstances. The purposed rowdyism of the man's style shows a little too plainly, buthis language is so racy and muscular, his characters so fairly andsharply drawn, that one must not be censorious. Towards evening Iremembered that it was the Fourth, and so procured a specific forsea-sickness, with which Braisted and I, sitting alone on the mainhatch, in the rain, privately remembered our Fatherland. There was onboard an American sea-captain, of Norwegian birth, as I afterwardsfound, who would gladly have joined us. The other passengers were threeNorwegians, three fossil Englishmen, two snobbish do. , and some jolly, good-natured, free-and-easy youths, bound to Norway, with dogs, guns, rods, fishing tackle, and oil-cloth overalls. We had a fair wind and smooth sea, but the most favourable circumstancescould not get more than eight knots an hour out of our steamer. Afterforty-eight hours, however, the coast of Norway came in sight--a fringeof scattered rocks, behind which rose bleak hills, enveloped in mist andrain. Our captain, who had been running on this route some years, didnot know where we were, and was for putting to sea again, but one of theNorwegian passengers offered his services as pilot and soon brought usto the fjord of Christiansand. We first passed through a_Skärgaard_--archipelago, or "garden of rocks, " as it is picturesquelytermed in Norsk--and then between hills of dark-red rock, covered by asprinkling of fir-trees, to a sheltered and tranquil harbour, upon whichlay the little town. By this time the rain came down, not in drops, butin separate threads or streams, as if the nozzle of an immensewatering-pot had been held over us. After three months of drouth, whichhad burned up the soil and entirely ruined the hay-crops, it was nowraining for the first time in Southern Norway. The young Englishmenbravely put on their waterproofs and set out to visit the town in themidst of the deluge; but as it contains no sight of special interest, Imade up my mind that, like Constantinople, it was more attractive fromwithout than within, and remained on board. An amphitheatre of ruggedhills surrounds the place, broken only by a charming little valley, which stretches off to the westward. The fishermen brought us some fresh mackerel for our breakfast. They arenot more than half the size of ours, and of a brighter green along theback; their flavour, however, is delicious. With these mackerels, foursalmons, a custom-house officer, and a Norwegian parson, we set off atnoon for Christiania. The coast was visible, but at a considerabledistance, all day. Fleeting gleams of sunshine sometimes showed thebroken inland ranges of mountains with jagged saw-tooth peaks shootingup here and there. When night came there was no darkness, but a stronggolden gleam, whereby one could read until after ten o'clock. We reachedthe mouth of Christiania Fjord a little after midnight, and most of thepassengers arose to view the scenery. After passing the branch whichleads to Drammen, the fjord contracts so as to resemble a river or oneof our island-studded New England lakes. The alternation of bare rockyislets, red-ribbed cliffs, fir-woods, grey-green birchen groves, tractsof farm land, and red-frame cottages, rendered this part of the voyagedelightful, although, as the morning advanced, we saw everything througha gauzy veil of rain. Finally, the watering-pot was turned on again, obliging even oil cloths to beat a retreat to the cabin, and socontinued until we reached Christiania. After a mild custom-house visitation, not a word being said aboutpassports, we stepped ashore in republican Norway, and were piloted by afellow-passenger to the Victoria Hotel, where an old friend awaited me. He who had walked with me in the colonnades of Karnak, among the sandsof Kôm-Ombos, and under the palms of Philæ, was there to resume our oldcompanionship on the bleak fjelds of Norway and on the shores of theArctic Sea. We at once set about preparing for the journey. First, tothe banker's who supplied me with a sufficient quantity of small moneyfor the post-stations on the road to Drontheim; then to a seller of_carrioles_, of whom we procured three, at $36 apiece, to be resold tohim for $24, at the expiration of two months; and then to supplyourselves with maps, posting-book, hammer, nails rope, gimlets, andother necessary helps in case of a breakdown. The carriole (_carry-all, lucus a non lucendo_, because it only carries one) is the nationalNorwegian vehicle, and deserves special mention. It resembles areindeer-pulk, mounted on a pair of wheels, with long, flat, flexibleash shafts, and no springs. The seat, much like the stern of a canoe, and rather narrow for a traveller of large basis, slopes down into atrough for the feet, with a dashboard in front. Your single valise isstrapped on a flat board behind, upon which your postillion sits. Thewhole machine resembles an American sulky in appearance, except that itis springless, and nearly the whole weight is forward of the axle. Wealso purchased simple and strong harness, which easily accommodatesitself to any horse. Christiania furnishes a remarkable example of the progress which Norwayhas made since its union with Sweden and the adoption of a freeConstitution. In its signs of growth and improvement, the city remindsone of an American town. Its population has risen to 40, 000, and thoughinferior to Gottenburg in its commerce, it is only surpassed byStockholm in size. The old log houses of which it once was built havealmost entirely disappeared; the streets are broad, tolerably paved, andhave--what Stockholm cannot yet boast of--decent side-walks. From thelittle nucleus of the old town, near the water, branch off handsome newstreets, where you often come suddenly from stately three-story blocksupon the rough rock and meadow land. The broad _Carl-Johansgade_, leading directly to the imposing white front of the Royal Palace, uponan eminence in the rear of the city, is worthy of any European capital. On the old market square a very handsome market hall of brick, insemi-Byzantine style, has recently been erected, and the only apparentpoint in which Christiania has not kept up with the times, is the wantof piers for her shipping. A railroad, about forty miles in length, isalready in operation as far as Eidsvold, at the foot of the long MiösenLake, on which steamers ply to Lillehammer, at its head, affording anoutlet for the produce of the fertile Guldbrandsdal and the adjacentcountry. The Norwegian Constitution is in almost all respects as free asthat of any American state, and it is cheering to see what materialwell-being and solid progress have followed its adoption. The environs of Christiania are remarkably beautiful. From the quietbasin of the fjord, which vanishes between blue, interlocking islands tothe southward, the land rises gradually on all sides, speckled withsmiling country-seats and farm-houses, which trench less and less on thedark evergreen forests as they recede, until the latter keep their olddominion and sweep in unbroken lines to the summits of the mountains oneither hand. The ancient citadel of Aggershus, perched upon a rock, commands the approach to the city, fine old linden trees rising aboveits white walls and tiled roofs; beyond, over the trees of the palacepark, in which stand the new Museum and University, towers the longpalace-front, behind which commences a range of villas and gardens, stretching westward around a deep bight of the fjord, until they reachthe new palace of Oscar-hall, on a peninsula facing the city. As wefloated over the glassy water, in a skiff, on the afternoon followingour arrival, watching the scattered sun-gleams move across the lovelypanorama, we found it difficult to believe that we were in the latitudeof Greenland. The dark, rich green of the foliage, the balmy odourswhich filled the air, the deep blue of the distant hills and islands, and the soft, warm colors of the houses, all belonged to the south. Onlythe air, fresh without being cold, elastic, and exciting, not adelicious opiate, was wholly northern, and when I took a swim under thecastle walls, I found that the water was northern too. It was the heightof summer, and the showers of roses in the gardens, the strawberries andcherries in the market, show that the summer's best gifts are stillenjoyed here. The English were off the next day with their dogs, guns, fishing tackle, waterproofs, clay pipes, and native language, except one, who becamehome-sick and went back in the next steamer. We also prepared to set outfor Ringerike, the ancient dominion of King Ring, on our way to theDovre-fjeld and Drontheim. CHAPTER XXI. INCIDENTS OF CARRIOLE TRAVEL. It is rather singular that whenever you are about to start upon a newjourney, you almost always fall in with some one who has just made it, and who overwhelms you with all sorts of warning and advice. This hashappened to me so frequently that I have long ago ceased to regard anysuch communications, unless the individual from whom they come inspiresme with more than usual confidence. While inspecting our carrioles atthe hotel in Christiania, I was accosted by a Hamburg merchant, who hadjust arrived from Drontheim, by way of the Dovre Fjeld and the MiösenLake. "Ah, " said he, "those things won't last long. That oil-clothcovering for your luggage will be torn to pieces in a few days by thepostillions climbing upon it. Then they hold on to your seat and rip thecloth lining with their long nails; besides, the rope reins wear theleather off your dashboard, and you will be lucky if your wheels andaxles don't snap on the rough roads. " Now, here was a man who hadtravelled much in Norway, spoke the language perfectly, and might besupposed to know something; but his face betrayed the croaker, and Iknew, moreover, that of all fretfully luxurious men, merchants--andespecially North-German merchants--are the worst, so I let him talk andkept my own private opinion unchanged. At dinner he renewed the warnings. "You will have great delay in gettinghorses at the stations. The only way is to be rough and swaggering, andthreaten the people--and even that won't always answer. " Most likely, Ithought. --"Of course you have a supply of provisions with you?" hecontinued. "No, " said I, "I always adopt the diet of the country inwhich I travel. "--"But you can't do it here!" he exclaimed in horror, "you can't do it here! They have no wine, nor no white bread, nor nofresh meat; and they don't know how to cook anything!" "I am perfectlyaware of that, " I answered; "but as long as I am not obliged to comedown to bread made of fir-bark and barley-straw, as last winter inLapland, I shall not complain. "--"You possess the courage of a hero ifyou can do such a thing; but you will not start now, in this rain?" Weanswered by bidding him a polite adieu, for the post-horses had come, and our carrioles were at the door. As if to reward our resolution, therain, which had been falling heavily all the morning, ceased at thatmoment, and the grey blanket of heaven broke and rolled up into loosemasses of cloud. I mounted into the canoe-shaped seat, drew the leathern apron over mylegs, and we set out, in single file, through the streets ofChristiania. The carriole, as I have already said, has usually nosprings (ours had none at least), except those which it makes inbounding over the stones. We had not gone a hundred yards before I wasready to cry out--"Lord, have mercy upon me!" Such a shattering of thejoints, such a vibration of the vertebræ, such a churning of theviscera, I had not felt since travelling by banghy-cart in India. Breathing went on by fits and starts, between the jolts; my teeth strucktogether so that I put away my pipe, lest I should bite off the stem, and the pleasant sensation of having been pounded in every limb crept onapace. Once off the paving-stones, it was a little better; beyond thehard turnpike which followed, better still; and on the gravel and sandof the first broad hill, we found the travel easy enough to allay ourfears. The two _skydsbonder_, or postillions, who accompanied us, satupon our portmanteaus, and were continually jumping off to lighten theascent of the hills. The descents were achieved at full trotting speed, the horses leaning back, supporting themselves against the weight of thecarrioles, and throwing out their feet very firmly, so as to avoid thedanger of slipping. Thus, no matter how steep the hill, they took itwith perfect assurance and boldness, never making a stumble. There wasjust sufficient risk left, however, to make these flying descentspleasant and exhilarating. Our road led westward, over high hills and across deep valleys, downwhich we had occasional glimpses of the blue fjord and its rockyislands. The grass and grain were a rich, dark green, sweeping into avelvety blue in the distance, and against this deep ground, the brightred of the houses showed with strong effect--a contrast which wassubdued and harmonised by the still darker masses of the evergreenforests, covering the mountain ranges. At the end of twelve or thirteenmiles we reached the first post-station, at the foot of the mountainswhich bound the inland prospect from Christiania on the west. As it wasnot a "_fast_" station, we were subject to the possibility of waitingtwo or three hours for horses, but fortunately were accosted on the roadby one of the farmers who supply the _skyds_, and changed at his house. The Norwegian _skyds_ differs from the Swedish _skjuts_ in having horsesready only at the fast stations, which are comparatively few, while atall others you must wait from one to three hours, according to thedistance from which the horses must be brought. In Sweden there arealways from two to four horses ready, and you are only obliged to waitafter these are exhausted. There, also, the regulations are better, andlikewise more strictly enforced. It is, at best, an awkward mode oftravelling--very pleasant, when everything goes rightly, but veryannoying when otherwise. We now commenced climbing the mountain by a series of terribly steepascents, every opening in the woods disclosing a wider and grander viewbackward over the lovely Christiania Fjord and the intermediate valleys. Beyond the crest we came upon a wild mountain plateau, a thousand feetabove the sea, and entirely covered with forests of spruce and fir. Itwas a black and dismal region, under the lowering sky: not a house or agrain field to be seen, and thus we drove for more than two hours, tothe solitary inn of Krogkleven, where we stopped for the night in orderto visit the celebrated King's View in the morning. We got a tolerablesupper and good beds, sent off a messenger to the station of Sundvolden, at the foot of the mountain, to order horses for us, and set out soonafter sunrise, piloted by the landlord's son, Olaf. Half an hour's walkthrough the forest brought us to a pile of rocks on the crest of themountain, which fell away abruptly to the westward. At our feet lay theTyri Fjord, with its deeply indented shores and its irregular, scatteredislands, shining blue and bright in the morning sun, while away beyondit stretched a great semicircle of rolling hills covered with greenfarms, dotted with red farm-houses, and here and there a white churchglimmering like a spangle on the breast of the landscape. Behind thissoft, warm, beautiful region, rose dark, wooded hills, with loftymountain-ridges above them, until, far and faint, under and among theclouds, streaks of snow betrayed some peaks of the Nore Fjeld, sixty orseventy miles distant. This is one of the most famous views in Norway, and has been compared to that from the Righi, but without sufficientreason. The sudden change, however, from the gloomy wilderness throughwhich you first pass to the sunlit picture of the enchanting lake, andgreen, inhabited hills and valleys, may well excuse the raptures oftravellers. Ringerike, the realm of King Ring, is a lovely land, notonly as seen from this eagle's nest, but when you have descended uponits level. I believe the monarch's real name was Halfdan the Black. Sobeloved was he in life that after death his body was divided into fourportions, so that each province might possess some part of him. Yet thenoblest fame is transitory, and nobody now knows exactly where any oneof his quarters was buried. A terrible descent, through a chasm between perpendicular cliffs somehundreds of feet in height, leads from Krogkleven to the level of theTyri Fjord. There is no attempt here, nor indeed upon the most of theNorwegian roads we travelled, to mitigate, by well-arranged curves, thesteepness of the hills. Straight down you go, no matter of how breaknecka character the declivity may be. There are no drags to the carriolesand country carts, and were not the native horses the toughest andsurest-footed little animals in the world, this sort of travel would betrying to the nerves. Our ride along the banks of the Tyri Fjord, in the clear morningsunshine, was charming. The scenery was strikingly like that on the lakeof Zug, in Switzerland, and we missed the only green turf, which thisyear's rainless spring had left brown and withered. In all Sweden we hadseen no such landscapes, not even in Norrland. There, however, the_people_ carried off the palm. We found no farm-houses here so statelyand clean as the Swedish, no such symmetrical forms and frank, friendlyfaces. The Norwegians are big enough, and strong enough, to be sure, buttheir carriage is awkward, and their faces not only plain but ugly. Thecountrywomen we saw were remarkable in this latter respect, but nothingcould exceed their development of waist, bosom and arms. Here is thestuff of which Vikings were made, I thought, but there has been norefining or ennobling since those times. These are the rough primitiveformations of the human race--the bare granite and gneiss, from whichsprouts no luxuriant foliage, but at best a few simple and hardyflowers. I found much less difficulty in communicating with theNorwegians than I anticipated. The language is so similar to the Swedishthat I used the latter, with a few alterations, and easily made myselfunderstood. The Norwegian dialect, I imagine, stands in about the samerelation to pure Danish as the Scotch does to the English. To my ear, it is less musical and sonorous than the Swedish, though it is oftenaccented in the same peculiar sing-song way. Leaving the Tyri Fjord, we entered a rolling, well-cultivated country, with some pleasant meadow scenery. The crops did not appear to bethriving remarkably, probably on account of the dry weather. The haycrop, which the farmers were just cutting, was very scanty; rye andwinter barley were coming into head, but the ears were thin and light, while spring barley and oats were not more than six inches in height. There were many fields of potatoes, however, which gave a betterpromise. So far as one could judge from looking over the fields, Norwegian husbandry is yet in a very imperfect state, and I suspect thatthe resources of the soil are not half developed. The whole country wasradiant with flowers, and some fields were literally mosaics of blue, purple, pink, yellow, and crimson bloom. Clumps of wild roses fringedthe road, and the air was delicious with a thousand odours. Nature wasthrobbing with the fullness of her short midsummer life, with thatsudden and splendid rebound from the long trance of winter which shenowhere makes except in the extreme north. At Kläkken, which is called a _lilsigelse_ station, where horses must bespecially engaged, we were obliged to wait two hours and a half, whilethey were sent for from a distance of four miles. The utter coolness andindifference of the people to our desire to get on faster was quitenatural, and all the better for them, no doubt, but it was provoking tous. We whiled away a part of the time with breakfast, which was composedmainly of boiled eggs and an immense dish of wild strawberries, of verysmall size but exquisitely fragrant flavour. The next station brought usto Vasbunden, at the head of the beautiful Randsfjord, which was luckilya fast station, and the fresh horses were forthcoming in two minutes. Our road all the afternoon lay along the eastern bank of the Fjord, coursing up and down the hills through a succession of the loveliestlandscape pictures. This part of Norway will bear a comparison with thesofter parts of Switzerland, such as the lakes of Zurich and Thun. Thehilly shores of the Fjord were covered with scattered farms, thevillages being merely churches with half a dozen houses clustered aboutthem. At sunset we left the lake and climbed a long wooded mountain to aheight of more than two thousand feet. It was a weary pull until wereached the summit, but we rolled swiftly down the other side to the innof Teterud, our destination, which we reached about 10 P. M. It was quitelight enough to read, yet every one was in bed, and the place seemeddeserted, until we remembered what latitude we were in. Finally, thelandlord appeared, followed by a girl, whom, on account of her size andblubber, Braisted compared to a cow-whale. She had been turned out ofher bed to make room for us, and we two instantly rolled into the warmhollow she had left, my Nilotic friend occupying a separate bed inanother corner. The guests' room was an immense apartment; eight sets ofquadrilles might have been danced in it at one time. The walls were hungwith extraordinary pictures of the Six Days of Creation, in which theAlmighty was represented as an old man dressed in a long gown, with apeculiarly good-humoured leer, suggesting a wink, on his face. I havefrequently seen the same series of pictures in the Swedish inns. In themorning I was aroused by Braisted exclaiming, "There she blows!" and thewhale came up to the surface with a huge pot of coffee, some sugarcandy, excellent cream, and musty biscuit. It was raining when we started, and I put on a light coat, purchased inLondon, and recommended in the advertisement as being "light in texture, gentlemanly in appearance, and impervious to wet, " with strong doubts ofits power to resist a Norwegian rain. Fortunately, it was not put to asevere test; we had passing showers only, heavy, though short. Thecountry, between the Randsfjord and the Miösen Lake was open androlling, everywhere under cultivation, and apparently rich andprosperous. Our road was admirable, and we rolled along at the rate ofone Norsk mile (seven miles) an hour, through a land in full blossom, and an atmosphere of vernal odours. At the end of the second station westruck the main road from Christiania to Drontheim. In the station-houseI found translations of the works of Dickens and Captain Chamier on thetable. The landlord was the most polite and attentive Norwegian we hadseen; but he made us pay for it, charging one and a half marks apiecefor a breakfast of boiled eggs and cheese. Starting again in a heavy shower, we crossed the crest of a hill, andsaw all at once the splendid Miösen Lake spread out before us, the loftyIsland of Helge, covered with farms and forests, lying in the centre ofthe picture. Our road went northward along the side of the vast, sweeping slope of farm-land which bounds the lake on the west. Its roughand muddy condition showed how little land-travel there is at present, since the establishment of a daily line of steamers on the lake. At thestation of Gjövik, a glass furnace, situated in a wooded little dell onthe shore, I found a young Norwegian who spoke tolerable English, andwho seemed astounded at our not taking the steamer in preference to ourcarrioles. He hardly thought it possible that we could be going all theway to Lillehammer, at the head of the lake, by the land road. When weset out, our postillion took a way leading up the hills in the rear ofthe place. Knowing that our course was along the shore, we asked him ifwe were on the road to Sveen, the next station. "Oh, yes; it's allright, " said he, "this is a new road. " It was, in truth, a superbhighway; broad and perfectly macadamised, and leading along the brink ofa deep rocky chasm, down which thundered a powerful stream. From the topof this glen we struck inland, keeping more and more to the westward. Again we asked the postillion, and again received the same answer. Finally; when we had travelled six or seven miles, and the lake hadwholly disappeared, I stopped and demanded where Sveen was. "Sveen isnot on this road, " he answered; "we are going to Mustad!" "But, " Iexclaimed, "we are bound for Sveen and Lillehammer!" "Oh, " said he, withinfuriating coolness, "_you can go there afterwards!_" You may judgethat the carrioles were whirled around in a hurry, and that the onlyanswer to the fellow's remonstrances was a shaking by the neck whichfrightened him into silence. We drove back to Gjövik in a drenching shower, which failed to cool ouranger. On reaching the station I at once made a complaint against thepostillion, and the landlord called a man who spoke good English, tosettle the matter. The latter brought me a bill of $2 for going toMustad and back. Knowing that the horses belonged to farmers, who werenot to blame in the least, we had agreed to pay for their use; but Iremonstrated against paying the full price when we had not gone thewhole distance, and had not intended to go at all. "Why, then, did youorder horses for Mustad?" he asked. "I did no such thing!" I exclaimed, in amazement. "You did!" he persisted, and an investigation ensued, which resulted in the discovery that the Norwegian who had advised us togo by steamer, had gratuitously taken upon himself to tell the landlordto send us to the Randsfjord, and had given the postillion similardirections! The latter, imagining, perhaps, that we didn't actually knowour own plans, had followed his instructions. I must say that I neverbefore received such an astonishing mark of kindness. The ill-concealedsatisfaction of the people at our mishap made it all the moreexasperating. The end of it was that two or three marks were taken offthe account, which we then paid, and in an hour afterwards shippedourselves and carrioles on board a steamer for Lillehammer. TheNorwegian who had caused all this trouble came along just before weembarked, and heard the story with the most sublime indifference, proffering not a word of apology, regret, or explanation. Judging fromthis specimen, the King of Sweden and Norway has good reason to stylehimself King of the Goths and Vandals. I was glad, nevertheless, that we had an opportunity of seeing theMiösen, from the deck of a steamer. Moving over the glassy pale-greenwater, midway between its shores, we had a far better exhibition of itsbeauties than from the land-road. It is a superb piece of water, sixtymiles in length by from two to five in breadth, with mountain shores ofpicturesque and ever-varying outline. The lower slopes are farm land, dotted with the large _gaards_, or mansions of the farmers, many ofwhich have a truly stately air; beyond them are forests of fir, spruce, and larch, while in the glens between, winding groves of birch, alder, and ash come down to fringe the banks of the lake. Wandering gleams ofsunshine, falling through the broken clouds, touched here and there theshadowed slopes and threw belts of light upon the water--and theseilluminated spots finely relieved the otherwise sombre depth of colour. Our boat was slow, and we had between two and three hours of unsurpassedscenery before reaching our destination. An immense raft of timber, gathered from the loose logs which are floated down the Lougen Elv, layat the head of the lake, which contracts into the famous Guldbrandsdal. On the brow of a steep hill on the right lay the little town ofLillehammer, where we were ere long quartered in a very comfortablehotel. CHAPTER XXII. GULDBRANDSDAL AND THE DOVRE FJELD. We left Lillehammer on a heavenly Sabbath morning. There was scarcely acloud in the sky, the air was warm and balmy, and the verdure of thevalley, freshened by the previous day's rain, sparkled and glittered inthe sun. The Miösen Lake lay blue and still to the south, and the baldtops of the mountains which inclose Guldbrandsdal stood sharp and clear, and almost shadowless, in the flood of light which streamed up thevalley. Of Lillehammer, I can only say that it is a commonplace town ofabout a thousand inhabitants. It had a cathedral and bishop some sixhundred years ago, no traces of either of which now remain. We drove outof it upon a splendid new road, leading up the eastern bank of theriver, and just high enough on the mountain side to give the loveliestviews either way. Our horses were fast and spirited, and the motion ofour carrioles over the firmly macadamised road was just sufficient tokeep the blood in nimble circulation. Rigid Sabbatarians may be shockedat our travelling on that day; but there were few hearts in all thechurches of Christendom whose hymns of praise were more sincere anddevout than ours. The Lougen roared an anthem for us from his rockybed; the mountain streams, flashing down their hollow channels, seemedhastening to join it; the mountains themselves stood silent, withuncovered heads; and over all the pale-blue northern heaven lookedlovingly and gladly down--a smile of God upon the grateful earth. Thereis no Sabbath worship better than the simple enjoyment of such a day. Toward the close of the stage, our road descended to the banks of theLougen, which here falls in a violent rapid--almost a cataract--over abarrier of rocks. Masses of water, broken or wrenched from the body ofthe river, are hurled intermittently high into the air, scattering asthey fall, with fragments of rainbows dancing over them. In this scene Iat once recognised the wild landscape by the pencil of Dahl, theNorwegian painter, which had made such an impression upon me inCopenhagen. In Guldbrandsdal, we found at once what we had missed in thescenery of Ringerike--swift, foaming streams. Here they leapt from everyrift of the upper crags, brightening the gloom of the fir-woods whichclothed the mountain-sides, like silver braiding upon a funeral garment. This valley is the pride of Norway, nearly as much for its richness asfor its beauty and grandeur. The houses were larger and moresubstantial, the fields blooming, with frequent orchards of fruit-trees, and the farmers, in their Sunday attire showed in their faces a littlemore intelligence than the people we had seen on our way thither. Theircountenances had a plain, homely stamp; and of all the large-limbed, strong-backed forms I saw, not one could be called graceful, or evensymmetrical. Something awkward and uncouth stamps the country people ofNorway. Honest and simple-minded they are said to be, and probably are;but of native refinement of feeling they can have little, unless alloutward signs of character are false. We changed horses at Moshûûs, and drove up a level splendid road toHolmen, along the river-bank. The highway, thus far, is entirely new, and does great credit to Norwegian enterprise. There is not a betterroad in all Europe; and when it shall be carried through to Drontheim, the terrors which this trip has for timid travellers will entirelydisappear. It is a pity that the _skyds_ system should not be improvedin equal ratio, instead of becoming even more inconvenient than atpresent. Holmen, hitherto a fast station, is now no longer so; and thesame retrograde change is going on at other places along the road. Thewaiting at the _tilsigelse_ stations is the great drawback to travellingby _skyds_ in Norway. You must either wait two hours or pay fast prices, which the people are not legally entitled to ask. Travellers may writecomplaints in the space allotted in the post-books for such things, butwith very little result, if one may judge from the perfect indifferencewhich the station-masters exhibit when you threaten to do so. I was morethan once tauntingly asked whether I would not write a complaint. InSweden, I found but one instance of inattention at the stations, duringtwo months' travel, and expected, from the boasted honesty of theNorwegians, to meet with an equally fortunate experience. Travellers, however, and especially English, are fast teaching the people the usualarts of imposition. Oh, you hard-shelled, unplastic, insulatedEnglishmen! You introduce towels and fresh water, and tea, andbeefsteak, wherever you go, it is true; but you teach high prices, andswindling, and insolence likewise! A short distance beyond Holmen, the new road terminated, and we took theold track over steep spurs of the mountain, rising merely to descend andrise again. The Lougen River here forms a broad, tranquil lake, a milein width, in which the opposite mountains were splendidly reflected. Thewater is pale, milky-green colour, which, under certain effects oflight, has a wonderful aerial transparency. As we approached Lösnäs, after this long and tedious stage, I was startled by the appearance of asteamer on the river. It is utterly impossible for any to ascend therapids below Moshûûs; and she must therefore have been built there. Wecould discover no necessity for such an undertaking in the thinscattered population and their slow, indifferent habits. Her suddenapparition in such a place was like that of an omnibus in the desert. The magnificent vista of the valley was for a time closed by the snowypeaks of the Rundan Fjeld; but as the direction of the river changedthey disappeared, the valley contracted, and its black walls, twothousand feet high, almost overhung us. Below, however, were still freshmeadows, twinkling birchen groves and comfortable farm-houses. Out of agorge on our right, plunged a cataract from a height of eighty or ninetyfeet, and a little further on, high up the mountain, a gush of braidedsilver foam burst out of the dark woods, covered with gleaming draperythe face of a huge perpendicular crag, and disappeared in the woodsagain, My friend drew up his horse in wonder and rapture. "I know allSwitzerland and the Tyrol, " he exclaimed, "but I have never seen acataract so wonderfully framed in the setting of a forest. " In theevening, as we approached our destination, two streams on the oppositeside of the valley, fell from a height of more than a thousand feet, ina series of linked plunges, resembling burnished chains hanging danglingfrom the tremendous parapet of rock. On the meadow before us, commandinga full view of this wild and glorious scene, stood a stately _gaard_, entirely deserted, its barns, out-houses and gardens utterly empty anddesolate. Its aspect saddened the whole landscape. We stopped at the station of Lillehaave, which had only been establishedthe day before, and we were probably the first travellers who hadsojourned there. Consequently the people were unspoiled, and it wasquite refreshing to be courteously received, furnished with a troutsupper and excellent beds, and to pay therefor an honest price. Themorning was lowering, and we had rain part of the day; but, thanks toour waterproofs and carriole aprons, we kept comfortably dry. Duringthis day's journey of fifty miles, we had very grand scenery, themountains gradually increasing in height and abruptness as we ascendedthe Guldbrandsdal, with still more imposing cataracts "blowing theirtrumpets from the steeps. " At Viik, I found a complaint in thepost-book, written by an Englishman who had come with us from Hull, stating that the landlord had made him pay five dollars for beating hisdog off his own. The complaint was written in English, of course, andtherefore useless so far as the authorities were concerned. The landlordwhom I expected, from this account, to find a surly, swindling fellow, accosted us civilly, and invited us into his house to see some oldweapons, principally battle-axes. There was a cross-bow, a battered, antique sword, and a buff coat, which may have been stripped from one ofSinclair's men in the pass of Kringelen. The logs of his house, or partof them, are said to have been taken from the dwelling in which thesaint-king Olaf--the apostle of Christianity in the North, --was born. They are of the red Norwegian pine, which has a great durability; andthe legend may be true, although this would make them eight hundred andfifty years old. Colonel Sinclair was buried in the churchyard at Viik, and about fifteenmiles further we passed the defile of Kringelen, where his band was cutto pieces. He landed in Romsdal's Fjord, on the western coast, with 900men intending to force his way across the mountains to relieveStockholm, which was then (1612) besieged by the Danes. Some threehundred of the peasants collected at Kringelen, gathered together rocksand trunks of trees on the brow of the cliff, and, at a concertedsignal, rolled the mass down upon the Scotch, the greater part of whomwere crushed to death or hurled into the river. Of the whole force onlytwo escaped. A wooden tablet on the spot says, as near as I could makeit out, that there was never such an example of courage and valour knownin the world, and calls upon the people to admire this glorious deed oftheir fathers. "Courage and valour;" cried Braisted, indignantly; "itwas a cowardly butchery! If they had so much courage, why did they allow900 Scotchmen to get into the very heart of the country before theytried to stop them?" Well, war is full of meanness and cowardice. If itwere only fair fighting on an open field, there would be less of it. Beyond Laurgaard, Guldbrandsdal contracts to a narrow gorge, down whichthe Lougen roars in perpetual foam. This pass is called the Rusten; andthe road here is excessively steep and difficult. The forests disappear;only hardy firs and the red pine cling to the ledges of the rocks; andmountains, black, grim, and with snow-streaked summits, tower grandly onall sides. A broad cataract, a hundred feet high, leaped down a chasm onour left, so near to the road that its sprays swept over us, and thenshot under a bridge to join the seething flood in the frightful gulfbeneath. I was reminded of the Valley of the Reuss, on the road to St. Gothard, like which, the pass of the Rusten leads to a cold and bleakupper valley. Here we noticed the blight of late frost on the barleyfields, and were for the first time assailed by beggars. Blackstorm-clouds hung over the gorge, adding to the savage wildness of itsscenery; but the sun came out as we drove up the Valley of Dovre, withits long stretch of grain-fields on the sunny sweep of the hill-side, sheltered by the lofty Dovre Fjeld behind them. We stopped for the nightat the inn of Toftemoen, long before sunset, although it was eighto'clock, and slept in a half-daylight until morning. The sun was riding high in the heavens when we left, and dark loweringclouds slowly rolled their masses across the mountain-tops. The Lougenwas now an inconsiderable stream, and the superb Guldbrandsdal narrowedto a bare, bleak dell, like those in the high Alps. The grain-fields hada chilled, struggling appearance; the forests forsook themountain-sides and throve only in sheltered spots at their bases; thehouses were mere log cabins, many of which were slipping off theirfoundation-posts and tottering to their final fall; and the people, poorer than ever, came out of their huts to beg openly and shamelesslyas we passed. Over the head of the valley, which here turns westward tothe low water-shed dividing it from the famous Romsdal, rose two orthree snow-streaked peaks of the Hurunger Fjeld; and the drifts fillingthe ravines of the mountains on our left descended lower and lower intothe valley. At Dombaas, a lonely station at the foot of the Dovre Fjeld, we turnednorthward into the heart of the mountains. My postillion, a boy offifteen, surprised me by speaking very good English. He had learned itin the school at Drontheim. Sometimes, he said, they had a schoolmasterin the house, and sometimes one at Jerkin, twenty miles distant. Ourroad ascended gradually through half-cut woods of red pine, for two orthree miles, after which it entered a long valley, or rather basin, belonging to the table land of the Dovre Fjeld. Stunted heath anddwarfed juniper-bushes mixed with a grey, foxy shrub-willow, covered thesoil, and the pale yellow of the reindeer moss stained the rocks. Highergreyer and blacker ridges hemmed in the lifeless landscape; and abovethem, to the north and west, broad snow-fields shone luminous under theheavy folds of the clouds. We passed an old woman with bare legs andarms, returning from a _söter_, or summer châlet of the shepherds. Shewas a powerful but purely animal specimen of humanity, --"beef to theheel, " as Braisted said. At last a cluster of log huts, with a patch ofgreen pasture-ground about them, broke the monotony of the scene. Itwas Fogstuen, or next station, where we were obliged to wait half anhour until the horses had been caught and brought in. The place had apoverty stricken air; and the slovenly woman who acted as landladyseemed disappointed that we did not buy some horridly coarse and uglywoolen gloves of her own manufacture. Our road now ran for fourteen miles along the plateau of the Dovre, morethan 3000 feet above the level of the sea. This is not a plain or tableland, but an undulating region, with hills, valleys, and lakes of itsown; and more desolate landscapes one can scarcely find elsewhere. Everything is grey, naked, and barren, not on a scale grand enough to beimposing, nor with any picturesqueness of form to relieve its sterility. One can understand the silence and sternness of the Norwegians, when hehas travelled this road. But I would not wish my worst enemy to spendmore than one summer as a solitary herdsman on these hills. Let anydisciple of Zimmerman try the effect of such a solitude. The statisticsof insanity in Norway exhibit some of its effects, and that which ismost common is most destructive. There never was a greater humbug thanthe praise of solitude: it is the fruitful mother of all evil, and noman covets it who has not something bad or morbid in his nature. By noon the central ridge or comb of the Dovre Fjeld rose before us, with the six-hundred-year old station of Jerkin in a warm nook on itssouthern side. This is renowned as the best post-station in Norway, andis a favourite resort of English travellers and sportsmen, who comehither to climb the peak of Snæhätten, and to stalk reindeer. I did notfind the place particularly inviting. The two women who had charge of itfor the time were unusually silent and morose, but our dinner was cheapand well gotten up, albeit the trout were not the freshest. We admiredthe wonderful paintings of the landlord, which although noticed byMurray, give little promise for Norwegian art in these high latitudes. His cows, dogs, and men are all snow-white, and rejoice in an originalanatomy. The horses on this part of the road were excellent, the road admirable, and our transit was therefore thoroughly agreeable. The ascent of thedividing ridge, after leaving Jerkin, is steep and toilsome for half amile, but with this exception the passage of the Dovre Fjeld isremarkably easy. The highest point which the road crossed is about 4600feet above the sea, or a little higher than the Brenner Pass in theTyrol. But there grain grows and orchards bear fruit, while here, underthe parallel of 62°, nearly all vegetation ceases, and even theomnivorous northern sheep can find no pasturage. Before and behind youlie wastes of naked grey mountains, relieved only by the snow-patches ontheir summits. I have seen as desolate tracts of wilderness in the southmade beautiful by the lovely hues which they took from the air; butNature has no such tender fancies in the north. She is a realist of themost unpitying stamp, and gives atmospheric influences which make thatwhich is dark and bleak still darker and bleaker. Black clouds hung lowon the horizon, and dull grey sheets of rain swept now and then acrossthe nearer heights. Snæhätten, to the westward, was partly veiled, butwe could trace his blunt mound of alternate black rock and snow nearlyto the apex. The peak is about 7700 feet above the sea, and was untilrecently considered the highest in Norway, but the Skagtolstind has beenascertained to be 160 feet higher, and Snæhätten is dethroned. The river Driv came out of a glen on our left, and entered a deep gorgein front, down which our road lay, following the rapid descent of thefoaming stream. At the station of Kongsvold, we had descended to 3000feet again, yet no trees appeared. Beyond this, the road for ten mileshas been with great labour hewn out of the solid rock, at the bottom ofa frightful defile, like some of those among the Alps. Formerly, itclimbed high up on the mountain-side, running on the brink of almostperpendicular cliffs, and the _Vaarsti_, as it is called, was thenreckoned one of the most difficult and dangerous roads in the country. Now it is one of the safest and most delightful. We went down the passon a sharp trot, almost too fast to enjoy the wild scenery as itdeserved. The Driv fell through the cleft in a succession of rapids, while smaller streams leaped to meet him in links of silver cataractdown a thousand feet of cliff. Birch and fir now clothed the littleterraces and spare corners of soil, and the huge masses of rock, hangingover our heads, were tinted with black, warm brown, and russet orange, in such a manner as to produce the most charming effects of colour. Overthe cornices of the mountain-walls, hovering at least two thousand feetabove, gleamed here and there the scattered snowy _jötuns_ of thehighest fjeld. The pass gradually opened into a narrow valley, where we found a littlecultivation again. Here was the post of Drivstuen, kept by a merry oldlady. Our next stage descended through increasing habitation andculture to the inn of Rise, where we stopped for the night, having theDovre Fjeld fairly behind us. The morning looked wild and threatening, but the clouds gradually hauled off to the eastward, leaving us thepromise of a fine day. Our road led over hills covered with forests offir and pine, whence we looked into a broad valley clothed with the samedark garment of forest, to which the dazzling white snows of the fjeldin the background made a striking contrast. We here left the waters ofthe Driv and struck upon those of the Orkla, which flow into DrontheimFjord. At Stuen, we got a fair breakfast of eggs, milk, cheese, breadand butter. Eggs are plentiful everywhere, yet, singularly enough, wewere nearly a fortnight in Norway before we either saw or heard a singlefowl. Where they were kept we could not discover, and why they did notcrow was a still greater mystery. Norway is really the land of silence. For an inhabited country, it is the quietest I have ever seen. No wonderthat anger and mirth, when they once break through the hard ice ofNorwegian life, are so furious and uncontrollable. These inconsistentextremes may always be reconciled, when we understand how nicely themoral nature of man is balanced. Our road was over a high, undulating tract for two stages, commandingwide views of a wild wooded region, which is said to abound with game. The range of snowy peaks behind us still filled the sky, appearing sonear at hand as to deceive the eye in regard to their height. At last, we came upon the brink of a steep descent, overlooking the deep glen ofthe Orkla, a singularly picturesque valley, issuing from between thebases of the mountains, and winding away to the northward. Down thefrightful slant our horses plunged and in three minutes we were at thebottom, with flower-sown meadows on either hand, and the wooded sides ofthe glen sweeping up to a waving and fringed outline against the sky. After crossing the stream, we had an ascent as abrupt, on the otherside; but half-way up stood the station of Bjærkager, where we left ourpanting horses. The fast stations were now at an end, but by paying fastprices we got horses with less delay. In the evening, a man travellingon foot offered to carry _förbud_ notices for us to the remainingstations, if we would pay for his horse. We accepted; I wrote the ordersin my best Norsk, and on the following day we found the horses inreadiness everywhere. The next stage was an inspiring trot through a park-like country, clothed with the freshest turf and studded with clumps of fir, birch, and ash. The air was soft and warm, and filled with balmy scents fromthe flowering grasses, and the millions of blossoms spangling theground. In one place, I saw half an acre of the purest violet hue, wherethe pansy of our gardens grew so thickly that only its blossoms werevisible. The silver green of the birch twinkled in the sun, and its jetsof delicate foliage started up everywhere with exquisite effect amid thedark masses of the fir. There was little cultivation as yet, but thesetrees formed natural orchards, which suggested a design in theirplanting and redeemed the otherwise savage character of the scenery. Wedipped at last into a hollow, down which flowed one of the tributariesof the Gûûl Elv, the course of which we thence followed to Drontheim. One of the stations was a lonely _gaard_, standing apart from the road, on a high hill. As we drove up, a horrid old hag came out to receive us. "Can I get three horses soon?" I asked. "No, " she answered with achuckle. "How soon?" "In a few hours, " was her indifferent reply, butthe promise of paying fast rates got them in less than one. My friendwanted a glass of wine, but the old woman said she had nothing but milk. We were sitting on the steps with our pipes, shortly afterwards, whenshe said: "Why don't you go into the house?" "It smells too strongly ofpaint, " I answered. "But you had better go in, " said she, and shuffledoff. When we entered, behold! there were three glasses of very goodMarsala on the table. "How do you sell your milk?" I asked her. "Thatkind is three skillings a dram, " she answered. The secret probably wasthat she had no license to sell wine. I was reminded of an incidentwhich occurred to me in Maine, during the prevalence of the prohibitorylaw. I was staying at an hotel in a certain town, and jestingly askedthe landlord: "Where is the Maine Law? I should like to see it. " "Why, "said he, "I have it here in the house;"' and he unlocked a back room andastonished me with the sight of a private bar, studded with fulldecanters. The men folks were all away at work, and our postillion was a strappinggirl of eighteen, who rode behind Braisted. She was gotten up on animmense scale, but nature had expended so much vigour on her body thatnone was left for her brain. She was a consummate representation ofhealth and stupidity. At the station where we stopped for the night Icould not help admiring the solid bulk of the landlady's sister. Although not over twenty four she must have weighed full two hundred. Her waist was of remarkable thickness, and her bust might be made intothree average American ones. I can now understand why Mügge calls hisheroine Ilda "the strong maiden. " A drive of thirty-five miles down the picturesque valley of the Gûûlbrought us to Drontheim the next day--the eighth after leavingChristiania. CHAPTER XXIII. DRONTHEIM. --VOYAGE UP THE COAST OF NORWAY. Our first view of Drontheim (or _Trondhjem_, as it should properly bewritten) was from the top of the hill behind the town, at thetermination of six miles of execrable road, and perhaps the reliefspringing from that circumstance heightened the agreeable impressionwhich the scene made upon our minds. Below us, at the bottom of acrescent-shaped bay, lay Drontheim--a mass of dark red, yellow, andbrown buildings, with the grey cathedral in the rear. The rich, wellcultivated valley of the Nid stretched behind it, on our right, past theLierfoss, whose column of foam was visible three miles away, until thehills, rising more high and bleak behind each other, completely enclosedit. The rock-fortress of Munkholm, in front of the city, broke thesmooth surface of the fjord, whose further shores, dim with passingshowers, swept away to the north-east, hiding the termination of thisgreat sea-arm, which is some fifty miles distant. The panorama wascertainly on a grand scale, and presented very diversified andpicturesque features; but I can by no means agree with Dr. Clarke, whocompares it to the Bay of Naples. Not only the rich colours of theMediterranean are wanting, but those harmonic sweeps and curves of theItalian shores and hills have nothing in common with these rude, ragged, weather beaten, defiant forms. Descending the hill between rows of neat country-houses, we passed adiminutive fortification, and entered the city. The streets areremarkably wide and roughly paved, crossing each other at right angles, with a Philadelphian regularity. The houses are all two stories high, and raised upon ample foundations, so that the doors are approached byflights of steps--probably on account of the deep snows during thewinter. They are almost exclusively of wood, solid logs covered withneat clap-boards, but a recent law forbids the erection of any morewooden houses, and in the course of time, the town, like Christiania, will lose all that is peculiar and characteristic in its architecture. Acleaner place can scarcely be found, and I also noticed, what is quiterare in the North, large square fountains or wells, at the intersectionof all the principal streets. The impression which Drontheim makes uponthe stranger is therefore a cheerful and genial one. Small andunpretending though it be, it is full of pictures; the dark blue fjordcloses the vista of half its streets; hills of grey rock, draped withthe greenest turf, overlook it on either side, and the beautiful valleyof the Nid, one of the loveliest nooks of Norway, lies in its rear. We drove to the Hotel de Belle-Vue, one of the two little caravanseraisof which the town boasts, and were fortunate in securing the two vacantrooms. The hotel business in Norway is far behind that of any othercountry, except in regard to charges, where it is far in advance. Considering what one gets for his money, this is the most expensivecountry in the world for foreigners. Except where the rates are fixed bylaw, as in posting, the natives pay much less; and here is an instanceof double-dealing which does not harmonise with the renowned honesty ofthe Norwegians. At the Belle-Vue, we were furnished with three verymeagre meals a day, at the rate of two dollars and a half. Theattendance was performed by two boys of fourteen or fifteen, whoseservices, as may be supposed, were quite inadequate to the wants of neartwenty persons. The whole business of the establishment devolved onthese two fellows, the landlady, though good-humoured and corpulent, aswas meet, knowing nothing about the business, and, on the whole, it wasa wonder that matters were not worse. It is singular that in a pastoralcountry like Norway one gets nothing but rancid butter, and generallysour cream, where both should be of the finest quality. Nature issparing of her gifts, to be sure; but what she does furnish is of thebest, as it comes from her hand. Of course, one does not look for muchculinary skill, and is therefore not disappointed, but the dairy is theprimitive domestic art of all races, and it is rather surprising to findit in so backward a state. My friend, who received no letters, and had no transatlantic intereststo claim his time, as I had, applied himself to seeing the place, whichhe accomplished, with praiseworthy industry, in one day. He walked outto the falls of the Nid, three miles up the valley, and was charmed withthem. He then entered the venerable cathedral, where he had thesatisfaction of seeing a Protestant clergyman perform high mass in ascarlet surplice, with a gold cross on his back. The State Church ofNorway, which, like that of Sweden, is Lutheran of a very antiquatedtype, not only preserves this ritual, but also the form of confession(in a general way, I believe, and without reference to particular sins)and of absolution. Of course, it is violently dogmatic and illiberal, and there is little vital religious activity in the whole country. Untilwithin a very few years, no other sects were tolerated, and even yetthere is simply freedom of conscience, but not equal political rights, for those of other denominations. This concession has perhaps saved thechurch from becoming a venerable fossil, yet one still finds persons whoregret that it should have been made, not knowing that all truth, toretain its temper, must be whetted against an opposing blade. Accordingto the new constitution of Norway, the king must be crowned in thecathedral of Drontheim. Bernadotte received the proper consecration, butOscar, though King of Norway, has not yet seen fit to accept it. I onceheard a Norwegian exclaim, with a sort of jealous satisfaction: "Oscarcalls himself King of Norway, but he is a king without a crown!" Icannot see, however, that this fact lessens his authority as sovereign, in the least. There is a weekly line of steamers, established by the Storthing(Legislative Assembly), to Hammerfest and around the North Cape. The"Nordkap, " the largest and best of these boats, was to leave Drontheimon Saturday evening, the 18th of July, and we lost no time in securingberths, as another week would have made it too late for the perpetualsunshine of the northern summer. Here again, one is introduced to aknowledge of customs and regulations unknown elsewhere. The ticketmerely secures you a place on board the steamer, but neither a berth norprovisions. The latter you obtain from a restaurateur on board, according to fixed rates; the former depends on the will of the captain, who can stow you where he chooses. On the "Nordkap" the state-rooms werealready occupied, and there remained a single small saloon containingeight berths. Here we did very well so long as there were only Englishand American occupants, who at once voted to have the skylight keptopen; but after two Norwegians were added to our company, we lived in astate of perpetual warfare, the latter sharing the national dread offresh air; and yet one of them was a professor from the University ofChristiania, and the other a physician, who had charge of the hospitalin Bergen! With this exception, we had every reason to be satisfied withthe vessel. She was very stanch and steady-going, with a spacious airysaloon on deck; no captain could have been more kind and gentlemanly, and there was quite as much harmony among the passengers as couldreasonably have been expected. Our party consisted of five Americans, three English, two Germans, and one Frenchman (M. Gay, Membre del'Academie), besides a variety of Norwegians from all parts of thecountry. Leaving our carrioles and part of our baggage behind us, we rowed out tothe steamer in a heavy shower. The sun was struggling with dark greyrain-clouds all the evening, and just as we hove anchor, threw asplendid triumphal iris across the bay, completely spanning the town, which, with the sheltering hills, glimmered in the rosy mist floatingwithin the bow. Enclosed by such a dazzling frame the picture ofDrontheim shone with a magical lustre, like a vision of Asgaard, beckoning to us from the tempestuous seas. But we were bound for thenorth, the barriers of Niflhem, the land of fog and sleet, and wedisregarded the celestial token, though a second perfect rainbowoverarched the first, and the two threw their curves over hill andfortress and the bosom of the rainy fjord, until they almost touched ourvessel on either side. In spite of the rain, we remained on deck until alate hour, enjoying the bold scenery of the outer fjord--here, precipitous woody shores, gashed with sudden ravines; there, jet-blackrocky peaks, resembling the porphyry hills of the African deserts; andnow and then, encircling the sheltered coves, soft green fields glowingwith misty light, and the purple outlines of snow-streaked mountains inthe distance. The morning was still dark and rainy. We were at first running betweenmountain-islands of bare rock and the iron coast of the mainland, afterwhich came a stretch of open sea for two hours, and at noon we reachedBjörö, near the mouth of the Namsen Fjord. Here there was half a dozenred houses on a bright green slope, with a windmill out of gear crowningthe rocky hill in the rear. The sky gradually cleared as we entered theNamsen Fjord, which charmed us with the wildness and nakedness of itsshores, studded with little nooks and corners of tillage, which sparkledlike oases of tropical greenness, in such a rough setting. Precipices ofdark-red rock, streaked with foamy lines of water from the snows meltingupon their crests, frowned over the narrow channels between the islands, and through their gaps and gorges we caught sight of the loftier rangesinland. Namsos, at the head of the fjord, is a red-roofed town of a fewhundred inhabitants, with a pleasant background of barley-fields andbirchen groves. The Namsen valley, behind it, is one of the richest inthis part of Norway, and is a great resort of English salmon-fishers. There was a vessel of two hundred tons on the stocks, and a few coastingcrafts lying at anchor. We had a beautiful afternoon voyage out another arm of the fjord, andagain entered the labyrinth of islands fringing the coast. Already, thedays had perceptibly lengthened, and the increased coldness of the airat night indicated our approach to the Arctic Circle. I was surprised atthe amount of business done at the little stations where we touched. Fewof these contained a dozen houses, yet the quantity of passengers andfreight which we discharged and took on board, at each, could only beexplained by the fact that these stations are generally outlets for atolerably large population, hidden in the valleys and fjords behind, which the steamer does not visit. Bleak and desolate as the coastappears, the back country has its fertile districts--its pasture-ground, its corn-land and forests, of which the voyager sees nothing, and thusmight be led to form very erroneous conclusions. Before we had beentwenty-four hours out from Drontheim, there was a marked change in theappearance of the people we took on board. Not even in the neighborhoodof Christiania or in the rich Guldbrandsdal were the inhabitants sowell-dressed, so prosperous (judging from outward signs, merely), or sointelligent. They are in every respect more agreeable and promisingspecimens of humanity than their brothers of Southern Norway, notwithstanding the dark and savage scenery amidst which their lot iscast. Toward midnight, we approached the rock of Torghätten, rising 1200 feethigh, in the shape of a tall-crowned, battered "wide-awake, " above thelow, rocky isles and reefs which surround it. This rock is famous for anatural tunnel, passing directly through its heart--the path of an arrowwhich the Giant Horseman (of whom I shall speak presently) shot at adisdainful maiden, equally colossal, in the old mythological times, whenOdin got drunk nightly in Walhalla. We were all on the look-out for thistunnel, which, according to Murray, is large enough for a ship to gothrough--if it were not some six hundred feet above the sea-level. Wehad almost passed the rock and nothing of the kind could be seen; butCapt. Riis, who was on deck, encouraged us to have a little patience, changed the steamer's course, and presently we saw a dark cavern yawningin the face of a precipice on the northern side. It was now midnight, but a sunset light tinged the northern sky, and the Torghätten yet stoodin twilight. "Shall we see through it?" was the question; but while wewere discussing the chances, a faint star sparkled in the midst of thecavernous gloom. "You see it because you imagine it, " cried some; yet, no, it was steadfast, and grew broad and bright, until even the mostsceptical recognised the pale midnight sky at the bottom of the giganticarch. My friend aroused me at five in the morning to see the SevenSisters--seven majestic peaks, 4000 feet high, and seated closely sideby side, with their feet in the sea. They all wore nightcaps of grayfog, and had a sullen and sleepy air. I imagined they snored, but itwas a damp wind driving over the rocks. They were northern beauties, hard-featured and large-boned, and I would not give a graceful southernhill, like Monte Albano or the Paphian Olympus, for the whole of them. So I turned in again, and did not awake until the sun had dried thedecks, and the split, twisted and contorted forms of the islands gavepromise of those remarkable figures which mark the position of theArctic Circle. There was already a wonderful change in the scenery. Theislands were high and broken, rising like towers and pyramids from thewater, and grouped together in the most fantastic confusion. Betweentheir jagged pinnacles, and through their sheer walls of naked rock, wecould trace the same formation among the hills of the mainland, while inthe rear, white against the sky, stretched the snowy table-land whichforms a common summit for all. One is bewildered in the attempt todescribe such scenery. There is no central figure, no prevailingcharacter, no sharp contrasts, which may serve as a guide whereby toreach the imagination of the reader. All is confused, disordered, chaotic. One begins to understand the old Norse myth of these stonesbeing thrown by the devil in a vain attempt to prevent the Lord fromfinishing the world. Grand as they are, singly, you are so puzzled bytheir numbers and by the fantastic manner in which they seem to dancearound you, as the steamer threads the watery labyrinth, that youscarcely appreciate them as they deserve. Take almost any one of thesehundreds, and place it inland, anywhere in Europe or America, and itwill be visited, sketched and sung to distraction. At last we saw in the west, far out at sea, the four towers of Threnen, rising perpendicularly many hundred feet from the water. Before us wasthe _Hestmand_, or Horseman, who bridles his rocky steed with the polarcircle. At first, he appeared like a square turret crowning an irregularmass of island-rock, but, as we approached a colossal head roundeditself at the top, and a sweeping cloak fell from the broad shoulder, flowing backward to the horse's flanks. Still, there was no horse; buthere again our captain took the steamer considerably out of her course, so that, at a distance of a mile the whole enormous figure, 1500 feet inheight, lay clearly before us. A heavy beard fell from the grand, Jupitolian head; the horse, with sharp ears erect and head bent down, seemed to be plunging into the sea, which was already above his belly;the saddle had slipped forward, so that the rider sat upon hisshoulders, but with his head proudly lifted, as if conscious of hisfate, and taking a last look at the world. Was it not All-Father Odin, on his horse Sleipner, forsaking the new race which had ceased toworship him? The colossi of the Orient--Rameses and Brahma andBoodh--dwindle into insignificance before this sublime natural monumentto the lost gods of the North. At the little fishing-village of Anklakken, near the Horseman, a fairwas being held, and a score or more of coasting craft, gay withNorwegian flags, lay at anchor. These _jægts_, as they are called, havea single mast, with a large square sail, precisely like those of theJapanese fishing junks, and their hulls are scarcely less heavy andclumsy. They are the Norwegian boats of a thousand years ago; allattempt to introduce a better form of ship-building having been invain. But the romantic traveller should not suppose that he beholds the"dragons" of the Vikings, which were a very different craft, and havelong since disappeared. The _jægts_ are slow, but good seaboats, and asthe article haste is not in demand anywhere in Norway, they probablyanswer every purpose as well as more rational vessels. Those we sawbelonged to traders who cruise along the coast during the summer, attending the various fairs, which appear to be the principal recreationof the people. At any rate, they bring some life and activity into thesesilent solitudes. We had on board the effects of an Englishman who wenton shore to see a fair and was left behind by a previous steamer. He hadnothing with him but the clothes on his back, and spoke no Norsk: so thecaptain anxiously looked out for a melancholy, dilapidated individual atevery station we touched at--but he looked in vain, for we neither sawnor heard anything of the unfortunate person. All the afternoon, we had a continuation of the same wonderfulscenery--precipices of red rock a thousand feet high, with snowy, turreted summits, and the loveliest green glens between. To the eastwere vast snow-fields, covering the eternal glaciers of the Alpinerange. As we looked up the Salten Fjord, while crossing its mouth, thesnows of Sulitelma, the highest mountain in Lappmark, 6000 feet abovethe sea, were visible, about fifty miles distant. Next came the littletown of Bodö where we stopped for the night. It is a cluster of woodenhouses, with roofs of green sod, containing about three hundredinhabitants. We found potatoes in the gardens, some currant bushes, anda few hardy vegetables, stunted ash trees and some patches of barley. The sun set a little before eleven o'clock, but left behind him a gloryof colours which I have never seen surpassed. The snowy mountains ofLappmark were transmuted into pyramids of scarlet flame, beside whichthe most gorgeous sunset illuminations of the Alps would have been paleand tame. The sky was a sheet of saffron, amber and rose, reduplicatedin the glassy sea, and the peaked island of Landegode in the west, whichstood broad against the glow, became a mass of violet hue, topped withcliffs of crimson fire. I sat down on deck and tried to sketch thissuperb spectacle, in colours which nobody will believe to be real. Before I had finished, the sunset which had lighted one end of Landegodebecame sunrise at the other, and the fading Alps burned anew with theflames of morning. CHAPTER XXIV. THE LOFODEN ISLES. The northern summer soon teaches one fashionable habits of life. Likethe man whose windows Sidney Smith darkened, and who slept all daybecause he thought it was night, you keep awake all night because youforget that it is not day. One's perception of time contracts in somemysterious way, and the sun, setting at eleven, seems to be no laterthan when he set at seven. You think you will enjoy the evening twilightan hour or two before going to bed, and lo! the morning begins to dawn. It seems absurd to turn in and sleep by daylight, but you sleep, nevertheless, until eight or nine o'clock, and get up but littlerefreshed with your repose. You miss the grateful covering of darkness, the sweet, welcome gloom, which shuts your senses, one after one, likethe closing petals of a flower, in the restoring trance of the night. The light comes through your eyelids as you sleep, and a certain nervouslife of the body that should sleep too keeps awake and active. I soonbegan to feel the wear and tear of perpetual daylight, in spite of itsnovelty and the many advantages which it presents to the traveller. At Bodö we were in sight of the Lofoden Islands, which filled up allthe northern and western horizon, rising like blue saw-teeth beyond thebroad expanse of the West Fjord, which separates them from the group ofthe shore islands. The next morning, we threaded a perfect labyrinth ofrocks, after passing Grotö, and headed across the fjord, for Balstad, onWest-Vaagöe, one of the outer isles. This passage is often very rough, especially when the wind blows from the south-west, rolling the heavyswells of the Atlantic into the open mouth of the fjord. We were verymuch favoured by the weather, having a clear sky, with a light northwind and smooth sea. The long line of jagged peaks, stretching fromVæröe in the south west to the giant ridges of Hindöe in the north east, united themselves in the distance with the Alpine chain of the mainlandbehind us, forming an amphitheatre of sharp, snowy summits, whichembraced five-sixths of the entire circle of the horizon, and would havecertainly numbered not less than two hundred. Von Buch compares theLofodens to the jaws of a shark, and most travellers since his time haveresuscitated the comparison, but I did not find it so remarkablyapplicable. There are shark tooth peaks here and there, it is true, butthe peculiar conformation of Norway--extensive plateaus, forming thesummit-level of the mountains--extends also to these islands, whose onlyvalleys are those which open to the sea, and whose interiors areuninhabitable snowy tracts, mostly above the line of vegetation. On approaching the islands, we had a fair view of the last outposts ofthe group--the solid barriers against which the utmost fury of theAtlantic dashes in vain. This side of Væröe lay the large island ofMosköe, between which and a large solitary rock in the middle of thestrait dividing them, is the locality of the renowned Maelström--now, alas! almost as mythical as the kraaken or great sea snake of theNorwegian fjords. It is a great pity that the geographical illusions ofour boyish days cannot retrain. You learn that the noise of Niagara canbe heard 120 miles off, and that "some Indians, in their canoes, haveventured down it, with safety. " Well, one could give up the Indianswithout much difficulty; but it is rather discouraging to step out ofthe Falls Depôt for the first time, within a quarter of a mile of thecataract, and hear no sound except "Cab sir?" "Hotel, sir?" So of theMaelström, denoted on my schoolboy map by a great spiral twist, whichsuggested to me a tremendous whirl of the ocean currents, aided by theinformation that "vessels cannot approach nearer than seven miles. " InOlney, moreover, there was a picture of a luckless bark, half-way downthe vortex. I had been warming my imagination, as we came up the coast, with Campbell's sonorous lines: "Round the shores where runic Odin Howls his war-song to the gale; Round the isles where loud Lofoden Whirls to death the roaring whale;" and, as we looked over the smooth water towards Mosköe, felt a reneweddesire to make an excursion thither on out return from the north. But, according to Captain Riis, and other modern authorities which Iconsulted, the Maelström has lost all its terrors and attractions. Undercertain conditions of wind and tide, an eddy is formed in the strait itis true, which may be dangerous to small boats--but the place is by nomeans so much dreaded as the Salten Fjord, where the tide, rushing in, is caught in such a manner as to form a _bore_, as in the Bay of Fundy, and frequently proves destructive to the fishing craft. It is thegeneral opinion that some of the rocks which formerly made the Maelströmso terrible have been worn away, or that some submarine convulsion hastaken place which has changed the action of the waters; otherwise it isimpossible to account for the reputation it once possessed. It should also be borne in mind that any accident to a boat among theseislands is more likely to prove disastrous than elsewhere, since thereare probably not a score out of the twenty thousand Lofoden fishermenwho pass half their lives on the water, who know how to swim. The wateris too cold to make bathing a luxury, and they are not sufficientlyprepossessed in favour of cleanliness to make it a duty. Nevertheless, they are bold sailors, in their way, and a tougher, hardier, moreathletic class of men it would be difficult to find. Handsome they arenot, but quite the reverse, and the most of them have an awkward anduncouth air; but it is refreshing to look at their broad shoulders, their brawny chests, and the massive muscles of their legs and arms. During the whole voyage, I saw but one man who appeared to be diseased. Such men, I suspect, were the Vikings--rough, powerful, ugly, dirtyfellows, with a few primitive virtues, and any amount of robust vices. We noticed, however, a marked change for the better in the commonpeople, as we advanced northward. They were altogether better dressed, better mannered, and more independent and intelligent, but with a hard, keen, practical expression of face, such as one finds among the shoremenof New-England. The school system of Norway is still sadly deficient, but there is evidently no lack of natural capacity among these people. Their prevailing vice is intemperance, which here, as in all other partsof the country, is beginning to diminish since restrictions have beenplaced upon the manufacture and sale of spirituous liquors, simultaneously with the introduction of cheap and excellent fermenteddrinks. The statistics of their morality also show a better state ofthings than in the South. There is probably no country population in theworld where licentiousness prevails to such an extent as in thedistricts of Guldbrandsdal and Hedemark. A voyage of four hours across the West Fjord brought us to the littlevillage of Balstad, at the southern end of West-Vaagöe. The few red, sod-roofed houses were built upon a rocky point, behind which were somepatches of bright green pasture, starred with buttercups, overhung by asplendid peak of dark-red rock, two thousand feet in height. It was afine frontispiece to the Lofoden scenery which now opened before us. Running along the coast of West and East Vaagöe, we had a continualsuccession of the wildest and grandest pictures--thousand feetprecipices, with turrets and needles of rock piercing the sky, dazzlingsnow-fields, leaking away in cataracts which filled the ravines withfoam, and mazes of bald, sea-worn rocks, which seem to have been throwndown from the scarred peaks in some terrible convulsion of nature. Hereand there were hollows, affording stony pasturage for a few sheep andcows and little wooden fisher-huts stood on the shore in the arms ofsheltered coves. At the village of Svolvær, which is built upon a pileof bare stones, we took on board a number of ladies in fashionabledresses, with bonnets on the backs of their heads and a sufficiency ofcumbrous petticoats to make up for the absence of hoops, which have notyet got further north than Drontheim. In seeing these unexpectedapparitions emerge from such a wild corner of chaos I could not butwonder at the march of modern civilisation. Pianos in Lapland, Parisiandresses among the Lofodens, billiard-tables in Hammerfest--whither shallwe turn to find the romance of the North! We sailed, in the lovely nocturnal sunshine, through the long, river-like channel--the Rasksund, I believe, it is called--between theislands of East-Vaagöe and Hindöe, the largest of the Lofodens. For adistance of fifteen miles the strait was in no place more than a mile inbreadth, while it was frequently less than a quarter. The smooth waterwas a perfect mirror, reflecting on one side the giant cliffs, withtheir gorges choked with snow, their arrowy pinnacles and white lines offalling water--on the other, hills turfed to the summit with emeraldvelvet, sprinkled with pale groves of birch and alder, and dotted, alongtheir bases, with the dwellings of the fishermen. It was impossible tobelieve that we were floating on an arm of the Atlantic--it was someunknown river, or a lake high up among the Alpine peaks. The silence ofthese shores added to the impression. Now and then a white sea-gullfluttered about the cliffs, or an eider duck paddled across some glassycove, but no sound was heard: there was no sail on the water, no humanbeing on the shore. Emerging at last from this wild and enchantingstrait, we stood across a bay, opening southward to the Atlantic, to theport of Steilo, on one of the outer islands. Here the broad front of theisland, rising against the roseate sky, was one swell of the mostglorious green, down to the very edge of the sea, while the hills ofEast-Vaagöe, across the bay, showed only naked and defiant rock, withsummit-fields of purple-tinted snow. In splendour of coloring, thetropics were again surpassed, but the keen north wind obliged us toenjoy it in an overcoat. Toward midnight, the sun was evidently above the horizon, though hiddenby intervening mountains. Braisted and another American made variousexertions to see it, such as climbing the foremast, but did not succeeduntil about one o'clock, when they were favoured by a break in thehills. Although we had daylight the whole twenty-four hours, travellersdo not consider that their duty is fulfilled unless they see the sunitself, exactly at midnight. In the morning, we touched at Throndenaes, on the northern side of Hindöe, a beautiful bay with green and woodedshores, and then, leaving the Lofodens behind us, entered thearchipelago of large islands which lines the coast of Finmark. Thoughbuilt on the same grand and imposing scale as the Lofodens, theseislands are somewhat less jagged and abrupt in their forms, and exhibita much more luxuriant vegetation. In fact, after leaving the NamsenFjord, near Drontheim, one sees very little timber until he reaches theparallel of 69°. The long straits between Senjen and Qvalö and themainland are covered with forests of birch and turfy slopes greener thanEngland has ever shown. At the same time the snow level was not morethan 500 feet above the sea, and broad patches lay melting on all thelower hills. This abundance of snow seems a singular incongruity, whenyou look upon the warm summer sky and the dark, mellow, juicy green ofthe shores. One fancies that he is either sailing upon some lofty inlandlake, or that the ocean-level in these latitudes must be many thousandfeet higher than in the temperate zone. He cannot believe that he is onthe same platform with Sicily and Ceylon. After a trip up the magnificent Maans Fjord, and the sight of somesea-green glaciers, we approached Tromsöe, the capital of Finmark. Thisis a town of nearly 3000 inhabitants, on a small island in the straitbetween Qvalö and the mainland. It was just midnight when we droppedanchor, but, although the sun was hidden by a range of snowy hills inthe north, the daylight was almost perfect. I immediately commencedmaking a sketch of the harbour, with its fleet of coasting vessels. SomeRussian craft from Archangel, and a Norwegian cutter carrying six guns, were also at anchor before the town. Our French traveller, after amusinghimself with the idea of my commencing a picture at sunset and finishingit at sunrise, started for a morning ramble over the hills. Boatsswarmed around the steamer; the coal-lighters came off, our crewcommenced their work, and when the sun's disc appeared, before oneo'clock, there was another day inaugurated. The night had vanishedmysteriously, no one could tell how. CHAPTER XXV. FINMARK AND HAMMERFEST. The steamer lay at Tromsöe all day, affording us an opportunity to visitan encampment of Lapps in Tromsdal, about four miles to the eastward. Sofar as the Lapps were concerned, I had seen enough of them, but I joinedthe party for the sake of the northern summer. The captain was kindenough to despatch a messenger to the Lapps, immediately on our arrival, that their herd of reindeer, pasturing on the mountains, might be drivendown for our edification, and also exerted himself to procure a horsefor the American lady. The horse came, in due time, but a side saddle isan article unknown in the arctic regions, and the lady was obliged totrust herself to a man's saddle and the guidance of a Norseman of themost remarkable health, strength, and stupidity. Our path led up a deep valley, shut in by overhanging cliffs, andblocked up at the eastern end by the huge mass of the fjeld. Thestreams, poured down the crags from their snowy reservoirs, spreadthemselves over the steep side of the hill, making a succession ofquagmires, over which we were obliged to spring and scramble inbreakneck style. The sun was intensely hot in the enclosed valley, andwe found the shade of the birchen groves very grateful. Some of thetrees grew to a height of forty feet, with trunks the thickness of aman's body. There were also ash and alder trees, of smaller size, and aprofusion of brilliant wild flowers. The little multeberry was inblossom; the ranunculus, the globe-flower, the purple geranium, theheath, and the blue forget-me-not spangled the ground, and on everyhillock the young ferns unrolled their aromatic scrolls written withwonderful fables of the southern spring. For it was only spring here, orrather the very beginning of summer. The earth had only become warmenough to conceive and bring forth flowers, and she was now making themost of the little maternity vouchsafed to her. The air was full ofwinged insects, darting hither and thither in astonishment at findingthemselves alive; the herbage seemed to be visibly growing under youreyes; even the wild shapes of the trees were expressive of haste, lestthe winter might come on them unawares; and I noticed that the year'sgrowth had been shot out at once, so that the young sprays might havetime to harden and to protect the next year's buds. There was no lush, rollicking out-burst of foliage, no mellow, epicurean languor of thewoods, no easy unfolding of leaf on leaf, as in the long security of oursummers; but everywhere a feverish hurry on the part of nature to dosomething, even if it should only be half done. And above the valley, behind its mural ramparts, glowered the cold white snows, which hadwithdrawn for a little while, but lay in wait, ready to spring down assoon as the protecting sunshine should fail. The lady had one harmless tumble into the mud, and we were all prettywell fatigued with our rough walk, when we reached the Lapp encampment. It consisted only of two families, who lived in their characteristic_gammes_, or huts of earth, which serve them also for winter dwellings. These burrows were thrown up on a grassy meadow, beside a rapid streamwhich came down from the fjeld; and at a little distance were two folds, or _corrals_ for their reindeer, fenced with pickets slanting outward. Anumber of brown-haired, tailless dogs, so much resembling bear-cubs thatat first sight we took them for such, were playing about the doors. Amiddle-aged Lapp, with two women and three or four children, were theinmates. They scented profit, and received us in a friendly way, allowing the curious strangers to go in and out at pleasure, to teasethe dogs, drink the reindeer milk, inspect the children, rock the baby, and buy horn spoons to the extent of their desire. They were smallerthan the Lapps of Kautokeino--or perhaps the latter appeared larger intheir winter dresses--and astonishingly dirty. Their appearance is muchmore disgusting in summer than in winter, when the snow, to a certainextent, purifies everything. After waiting an hour or more, the herdappeared descending the fjeld, and driven toward the fold by two youngLapps, assisted by their dogs. There were about four hundred in all, nearly one-third being calves. Their hoarse bleating and the crackingnoise made by their knee-joints, as they crowded together into a densemass of grey, mossy backs, made a very peculiar sound; and this combinedwith their ragged look, from the process of shedding their coats ofhair, did not very favourably impress those of our party who saw themfor the first time. The old Lapp and his boy, a strapping fellow offifteen, with a ruddy, olive complexion and almost Chinese features, caught a number of the cows with lassos, and proceeded to wean the youngdeer by anointing the mothers' dugs with cow-dung, which they carried inpails slung over their shoulders. In this delightful occupation we leftthem, and returned to Tromsöe. As we crossed the mouth of the Ulvsfjord, that evening we had an opensea horizon toward the north, a clear sky, and so much sunshine ateleven o'clock that it was evident the Polar day had dawned upon us atlast. The illumination of the shores was unearthly in its glory, and thewonderful effects of the orange sunlight, playing upon the dark hues ofthe island cliffs, can neither be told nor painted. The sun hung lowbetween Fuglöe, rising like a double dome from the sea, and the tallmountains of Arnöe, both of which islands resembled immense masses oftransparent purple glass, gradually melting into crimson fire at theirbases. The glassy, leaden-coloured sea was powdered with a golden bloom, and the tremendous precipices at the mouth of the Lyngen Fjord, behindus, were steeped in a dark red, mellow flush, and touched withpencillings of pure, rose-coloured light, until their naked ribs seemedto be clothed in imperial velvet. As we turned into the Fjord and ransouthward along their bases, a waterfall, struck by the sun, fell infiery orange foam down the red walls, and the blue ice-pillars of abeautiful glacier filled up the ravine beyond it. We were all on deck, and all faces, excited by the divine splendour of the scene, and tingedby the same wonderful aureole, shone as if transfigured. In my wholelife I have never seen a spectacle so unearthly beautiful. Our course brought the sun rapidly toward the ruby cliffs of Arnöe, andit was evident that he would soon be hidden from sight. It was not yethalf-past eleven, and an enthusiastic passenger begged the captain tostop the vessel until midnight. "Why, " said the latter, "it is midnightnow, or very near it; you have Drontheim time, which is almost fortyminutes in arrears. " True enough, the real time lacked but five minutesof midnight, and those of us who had sharp eyes and strong imaginationssaw the sun make his last dip and rise a little, before he vanished in ablaze of glory behind Arnöe. I turned away with my eyes full of dazzlingspheres of crimson and gold, which danced before me wherever I looked, and it was a long time before they were blotted out by the semi-oblivionof a daylight sleep. The next morning found us at the entrance of the long Alten Fjord. Herethe gashed, hacked, split, scarred and shattered character of themountains ceases, and they suddenly assume a long, rolling outline, fullof bold features, but less wild and fantastic. On the southern side ofthe fjord many of them are clothed with birch and fir to the height of athousand feet. The valleys here are cultivated to some extent, andproduce, in good seasons, tolerable crops of potatoes, barley, andbuckwheat. This is above lat. 70°, or parallel with the northern part ofGreenland, and consequently the highest cultivated land in the world. Inthe valley of the Alten River, the Scotch fir sometimes reaches aheight of seventy or eighty feet. This district is called the Paradiseof Finmark, and no doubt floats in the imaginations of the settlers onMageröe and the dreary Porsanger Fjord, as Andalusia and Syria float inours. It is well that human bliss is so relative in its character. At Talvik, a cheerful village with a very neat, pretty church, whoshould come on board but Pastor Hvoslef, our Kautokeino friend of thelast winter! He had been made one of a Government Commission of four, appointed to investigate and report upon the dissensions between thenomadic Lapps and those who have settled habitations. A better personcould not have been chosen than this good man, who has the welfare ofthe Lapps truly at heart, and in whose sincerity every one in the Northconfides. We had on board Mr. Thomas, the superintendent of the copper works atKaafjord, who had just resigned his seat in the Storthing and given uphis situation for the purpose of taking charge of some mines at Copiapo, in Chili. Mr. Thomas is an Englishman, who has been for twenty yearspast one of the leading men of Finmark, and no other man, I venture tosay, has done more to improve and enlighten that neglected province. Hisloss will not be easily replaced. At Talvik, his wife, a pleasant, intelligent Norwegian lady, came on board; and, as we passed the rockyportals guarding the entrance to the little harbour of Kaafjord, a gun, planted on a miniature battery above the landing-place, pealed forth asalute of welcome. I could partly understand Mr. Thomas's long residencein those regions, when I saw what a wild, picturesque spot he had chosenfor his home. The cavernous entrances to the copper mines yawned in theface of the cliff above the outer bay below, on the water's edge, stoodthe smelting works, surrounded by labourers' cottages; a graceful whitechurch crowned a rocky headland a little further on; and beyond, above agreen lawn, decked with a few scattering birches, stood a comfortablemansion, with a garden in the rear. The flag of Norway and the cross ofSt. George floated from separate staffs on the lawn. There were a numberof houses, surrounded with potato-fields on the slope stretching aroundthe bay, and an opening of the hills at its head gave us a glimpse ofthe fir forests of the inland valleys. On such a cloudless day as wehad, it was a cheerful and home-like spot. We took a friendly leave of Mr. Thomas and departed, the little batterygiving us I don't know how many three-gun salutes as we moved off. Anumber of whales spouted on all sides of us as we crossed the head ofthe fjord to Bosekop, near the mouth of the Alten River. This is alittle village on a bare rocky headland, which completely shuts out fromview the rich valley of the Alten, about which the Finmarkers speak withso much enthusiasm. "Ah, you should see the farms on the Alten, " saythey; "there we have large houses, fields, meadows, cattle, and thefinest timber. " This is Altengaard, familiar to all the readers ofMügge's "Afraja. " The _gaard_, however, is a single large estate, andnot a name applied to the whole district, as those unfamiliar with Norsknomenclature might suppose. Here the Catholics have established amission--ostensibly a missionary boarding-house, for the purpose ofacclimating arctic apostles; but the people, who regard it with thegreatest suspicion and distrust, suspect that the ultimate object is theoverthrow of their inherited, venerated, and deeply-rooted Lutheranfaith. At Bosekop we lost Pastor Hvoslef, and took on board the chief ofthe mission, the Catholic Bishop of the Arctic Zone--for I believe hisdiocese includes Greenland, Spitzbergen, and Polar America. Here is aCalmuck Tartar, thought I, as a short, strongly-built man, with sallowcomplexion, deep-set eyes, broad nostrils, heavy mouth, pointed chin, and high cheek-bones, stepped on board; but he proved to be a Russianbaron, whose conversion cost him his estates. He had a massive head, however, in which intellect predominated, and his thoroughly polishedmanners went far to counteract the effect of one of the mostunprepossessing countenances I ever saw. M. Gay, who had known the bishop at Paris, at once entered intoconversation with him. A short time afterwards, my attention was drawnto the spot where they stood by loud and angry exclamations. Two of ourNorwegian _savans_ stood before the bishop, and one of them, with a facewhite with rage, was furiously vociferating: "It is not true! it is nottrue! Norway is a free country!" "In this respect, it is not free, "answered the bishop, with more coolness than I thought he could haveshown, under such circumstances: "You know very well that no one canhold office except those who belong to your State Church--neither aCatholic, nor a Methodist, nor a Quaker: whereas in France, as I havesaid, a Protestant may even become a minister of the Government. " "Butwe do not believe in the Catholic faith:--we will have nothing to dowith it!" screamed the Norwegian. "We are not discussing our creeds, "answered the bishop: "I say that, though Norway is a free country, politically, it does _not_ secure equal rights to all its citizens, andso far as the toleration of religious beliefs is concerned, it is behindmost other countries of Europe. " He thereupon retreated to the cabin, for a crowd had gathered about the disputants, and the deck-passengerspressing aft, seemed more than usually excited by what was going on. TheNorwegian shaking with fury, hissed through his set teeth: "How dare hecome here to insult our national feeling!" Yes, but every word was true;and the scene was only another illustration of the intense vanity of theNorwegians in regard to their country. Woe to the man who says a wordagainst Norway, though he say nothing but what everybody knows to betrue! So long as you praise everything--scenery, people, climate, institutions, and customs--or keep silent where you cannot praise, youhave the most genial conversation; but drop a word of honest dissent orcensure, and you will see how quickly every one draws back into hisshell. There are parts of our own country where a foreigner might makethe same observation. Let a Norwegian travel in the Southern States, anddare to say a word in objection to slavery! There is nothing of interest between Alten and Hammerfest, except theold sea-margins on the cliffs and a small glacier on the island ofSeiland. The coast is dismally bleak and barren. Whales were veryabundant; we sometimes saw a dozen spouting at one time. They were ofthe hump-backed species, and of only moderate size; yet the fisherywould doubtless pay very well, if the natives had enterprise enough toundertake it. I believe, however, there is no whale fishery on the wholeNorwegian coast. The desolate hills of Qvalö surmounted by the pointedpeak of the Tjuve Fjeld, or "Thief Mountain, "--so called because itsteals so much of the winter sunshine, --announced our approach toHammerfest, and towards nine o'clock in the evening we were at anchor inthe little harbour. The summer trade had just opened, and forty Russianvessels, which had arrived from the White Sea during the previous weekor two, lay crowded before the large fish warehouses built along thewater. They were all three-masted schooners, the main and mizen mastsset close together, and with very heavy, square hulls. Strong Muscovitefaces, adorned with magnificent beards, stared at us from the decks, anda jabber of Russian, Finnish, Lapp, and Norwegian, came from the roughboats crowding about our gangways. The north wind, blowing to us off theland, was filled with the perfume of dried codfish, train oil, andburning whale-"scraps, " with which, as we soon found, the whole place isthoroughly saturated. There is one hotel in the place, containing half a dozen chambers of thesize of a state-room. We secured quarters here with a great deal ofdifficulty, owing to slowness of comprehension on the part of an oldlady who had charge of the house. The other American, who at first tookrooms for himself and wife, gave them up again very prudently; for thenoises of the billiard-room penetrated through the thin woodenpartitions, and my bed, at least, had been slept in by one of thecodfish aristocracy, for the salty odour was so pungent that it kept meawake for a long time. With our fare, we had less reason to complain. Fresh salmon, arctic ptarmigan, and reindeer's tongue were delicacieswhich would have delighted any palate, and the wine had really seenBordeaux, although rainy weather had evidently prevailed during thevoyage thence to Hammerfest. The town lies in a deep bight, inclosed byprecipitous cliffs, on the south-western side of the island, whence thesun, by this time long past his midsummer altitude, was not visible atmidnight. Those of our passengers who intended returning by the_Nordkap_ climbed the hills to get another view of him, butunfortunately went upon the wrong summit, so that they did not see himafter all. I was so fatigued, from the imperfect sleep of the sunshinynights and the crowd of new and exciting impressions which the voyagehad given me, that I went to bed; but my friend sat up until long pastmidnight, writing, with curtains drawn. CHAPTER XXVI. THE MIDNIGHT SUN. Most of the travellers who push as far north as Hammerfest contentthemselves with one experience of the midnight sun, and return with thesame steamer to Drontheim. A few extend their journey to the North Cape, and, once a year, on an average, perhaps, some one is adventurous enoughto strike across Lapland to Torneå. The steamers, nevertheless, pass theNorth Cape, and during the summer make weekly trips to the VarangerFjord, the extreme eastern limit of the Norwegian territory. We weredivided in opinion whether to devote our week of sunshine to the NorthCape, or to make the entire trip and see something of the northern coastof Europe, but finally decided that the latter, on the whole, as beingunfamiliar ground, would be most interesting. The screw-steamer Gyller(one of Odin's horses) was lying in the harbour when we arrived, and wasto leave in the course of the next night; so we lost no time in securingplaces, as she had but a small cabin and no state-rooms. Nevertheless, we found her very comfortable, and in every respect far superior to theEnglish vessels which ply between Hull and Christiania. Our fellowtravellers were all returning to Drontheim--except three Norwegianofficers on their way to make an official inspection of the fortress ofWardöhuus--and the last we saw of them was their return, an hour pastmidnight, from making a second attempt to see the sun from the hills. The night was somewhat obscured, and I doubt if they were successful. When I went on deck on the morning after our departure, we were in thenarrow strait between the island of Mageröe, the northern extremity ofwhich forms the North Cape, and the mainland. On either side, the shoresof bare bleak rock, spotted with patches of moss and stunted grass, roseprecipitously from the water, the snow filling up their ravines from thesummit to the sea. Not a tree nor a shrub, nor a sign of humanhabitation was visible; there was no fisher's sail on the lonely waters, and only the cries of some sea-gulls, wheeling about the cliffs, brokethe silence. As the strait opened to the eastward, a boat appeared, beating into Kjelvik, on the south-eastern corner of the island; but theplace itself was concealed from us by an intervening cape. This is thespot which Von Buch visited in the summer of 1807, just fifty years ago, and his description would be equally correct at the present day. Here, where the scurvy carries off half the inhabitants, --where pastors comingfrom Southern Norway die within a year, --where no trees grow, novegetables come to maturity, and gales from every quarter of the Icy Seabeat the last faint life out of nature, men will still persist inliving, in apparent defiance of all natural laws. Yet they have at leastan excuse for it, in the miraculous provision which Providence has madefor their food and fuel. The sea and fjords are alive with fish, whichare not only a means of existence but of profit to them, while thewonderful Gulf Stream, which crosses 5000 miles of the Atlantic to dieupon this Ultima Thule in a last struggle with the Polar Sea, casts upthe spoils of tropical forests to feed their fires. Think of arcticfishers burning upon their hearths the palms of Hayti, the mahogany ofHonduras, and the precious woods of the Amazon and the Orinoco! In the spring months, there are on an average 800 vessels on thenorthern coast, between the North Cape and Vadsö, with a fishingpopulation of 5000 men on board, whose average gains, even at the scantyprices they receive amount to $30 apiece, making a total yield of$150, 000. It is only within a very few years that the NorwegianGovernment has paid any attention to this far corner of the peninsula. At present, considering the slender population, the means ofcommunication are well kept up during eight months in the year, and theresult is an increase (perceptible to an old resident, no doubt) in theactivity and prosperity of the country. On issuing from the strait, we turned southward into the great PorsangerFjord, which stretches nearly a hundred miles into the heart of Lapland, dividing Western from Eastern Finmark. Its shores are high monotonoushills, half covered with snow, and barren of vegetation except patchesof grass and moss. If once wooded, like the hills of the Alten Fjord, the trees have long since disappeared, and now nothing can be more bleakand desolate. The wind blew violently from the east, gradually lifting aveil of grey clouds from the cold pale sky, and our slow little steamerwith jib and fore-topsail set, made somewhat better progress. Towardevening (if there is such a time in the arctic summer), we reachedKistrand, the principal settlement on the fjord. It has eight or ninehouses, scattered along a gentle slope a mile in length, and a littlered church, but neither gardens, fields, nor potato patches. A strip ofgrazing ground before the principal house was yellow with dandelions, the slope behind showed patches of brownish green grass, and above thismelancholy attempt at summer stretched the cold, grey, snow-streakedridge of the hill. Two boats, manned by sea-Lapps, with square bluecaps, and long ragged locks of yellow hair fluttering in the wind, brought off the only passenger and the mails, and we put about for themouth of the fjord. Running along under the eastern shore, we exchanged the dreadfulmonotony through which we had been sailing for more rugged andpicturesque scenery. Before us rose a wall of dark cliff, from five tosix hundred feet in height, gaping here and there with sharp clefts orgashes, as if it had cracked in cooling, after the primeval fires. Thesummit of these cliffs was the average level of the country; and thispeculiarity, I found, applies to all the northern shore of Finmark, distinguishing the forms of the capes and islands from those about Altenand Hammerfest, which, again, are quite different from those of theLofodens. "On returning from Spitzbergen, " said a Hammerfest merchant tome, "I do not need to look at chart or compass, when I get sight of thecoast; I know, from the formation of the cliffs, exactly where I am. "There is some general resemblance to the chalk bluffs of England, especially about Beachy Head, but the rock here appears to bemica-slate, disposed in thin, vertical strata, with many violenttransverse breaks. As we approached the end of the promontory which divides the Porsangerfrom the Laxe Fjord, the rocks became more abrupt and violentlyshattered. Huge masses, fallen from the summit, lined the base of theprecipice, which was hollowed into cavernous arches, the home of myriadsof sea-gulls. The rock of Sværholtklub, off the point, resembled amassive fortress in ruins. Its walls of smooth masonry rested on threeenormous vaults, the piers of which were buttressed with slanting pilesof rocky fragments. The ramparts, crenelated in some places, hadmouldered away in others, and one fancied he saw in the rents and scarsof the giant pile the marks of the shot and shell which had wrought itsruin. Thousands of white gulls, gone to their nightly roost, rested onevery ledge and cornice of the rock; but preparations were already madeto disturb their slumbers. The steamer's cannon was directed towards thelargest vault, and discharged. The fortress shook with the crashingreverberation; "then rose a shriek, as of a city sacked"--a wild, piercing, maddening, myriad-tongued cry, which still rings in my ears. With the cry, came a rushing sound, as of a tempest among the woods; awhite cloud burst out of the hollow arch-way, like the smoke of ananswering shot, and, in the space of a second, the air was filled withbirds, thicker than autumn leaves, and rang with one universal, clangingshriek. A second shot, followed by a second outcry and an answeringdischarge from the other caverns, almost darkened the sky. The whirring, rustling and screaming, as the birds circled overhead, or dropped likethick scurries of snow-flakes on the water, was truly awful. There couldnot have been less than fifty thousand in the air at one time, while asmany more clung to the face of the rock, or screamed from the depth ofthe vaults. Such an indignation meeting I never attended before; but, like many others I have heard of, the time for action was passed beforethey had decided what to do. It was now eleven o'clock, and Sværholt glowed in fiery bronze lustre aswe rounded it, the eddies of returning birds gleaming golden in thenocturnal sun, like drifts of beech leaves in the October air. Far tothe north, the sun lay in a bed of saffron light over the clear horizonof the Arctic Ocean. A few bars of dazzling orange cloud floated abovehim, and still higher in the sky, where the saffron melted throughdelicate rose-colour into blue, hung light wreaths of vapour, touchedwith pearly, opaline flushes of pink and golden grey. The sea was a webof pale slate-colour, shot through and through with threads of orangeand saffron, from the dance of a myriad shifting and twinkling ripples. The air was filled and permeated with the soft, mysterious glow, andeven the very azure of the southern sky seemed to shine through a net ofgolden gauze. The headlands of this deeply-indented coast--the capes ofthe Laxe and Porsanger Fjords, and of Mageröe--lay around us, indifferent degrees of distance, but all with foreheads touched withsupernatural glory. Far to the north-east was Nordkyn, the most northernpoint of the mainland of Europe, gleaming rosily and faint in the fullbeams of the sun, and just as our watches denoted midnight the NorthCape appeared to the westward--a long line of purple bluff, presentinga vertical front of nine hundred feet in height to the Polar Sea. Midwaybetween those two magnificent headlands stood the Midnight Sun, shiningon us with subdued fires, and with the gorgeous colouring of an hour forwhich we have no name, since it is neither sunset nor sunrise, but theblended loveliness of both--but shining at the same moment, in the heatand splendour of noonday, on the Pacific Isles. This was the midnight sun as I had dreamed it--as I had hoped to see it. Within fifteen minutes after midnight, there was a perceptible increaseof altitude, and in less than half an hour the whole tone of the sky hadchanged, the yellow brightening into orange, and the saffron meltinginto the pale vermilion of dawn. Yet it was neither the colours, nor thesame character of light as we had had, half an hour _before_ midnight. The difference was so slight as scarcely to be described; but it was thedifference between evening and morning. The faintest transfusion of oneprevailing tint into another had changed the whole expression of heavenand earth, and so imperceptibly and miraculously that a new day wasalready present to our consciousness. Our view of the wild cliffs ofSværholt, less than two hours before, belonged to yesterday, though wehad stood on deck, in full sunshine, during all the intervening time. Had the sensation of a night slipped through our brains in the momentarywinking of the eyes? Or was the old routine of consciousness so firmlystereotyped in our natures, that the view of a morning was sufficientproof to them of the preëxistence of a night? Let those explain thephenomenon who can--but I found my physical senses utterly at war withthose mental perceptions wherewith they should harmonise. The eye sawbut one unending day; the mind notched the twenty-four hours on itscalendar, as before. Before one o'clock we reached the entrance of the Kiöllefjord, which inthe pre-diluvial times must have been a tremendous mountain gorge, likethat of Gondo, on the Italian side of the Simplon. Its mouth is abouthalf a mile in breadth, and its depth is not more than a mile and ahalf. It is completely walled in with sheer precipices of bare rock, from three to five hundred feet in height, except at the very head, where they subside into a stony heap, upon which some infatuated mortalshave built two or three cabins. As we neared the southern headland, theface of which was touched with the purest orange light, while itsyawning fissures lay in deep-blue gloom, a tall ruin, with shatteredturrets and crumbling spires, detached itself from the mass, and stoodalone at the foot of the precipice. This is the _Finnkirka_, or "Churchof the Lapps, " well known to all the northern coasters. At first itresembles a tall church with a massive square spire; but the two partsseparate again, and you have a crag-perched castle of the middle-ages, with its watch-tower--the very counterpart of scores in Germany--and aquaint Gothic chapel on the point beyond. The vertical strata of therock, worn into sharp points at the top and gradually broadening to thebase, with numberless notched ornaments and channels fluted by the rain, make the resemblance marvellous, when seen under the proper effects oflight and shade. The lustre in which we saw it had the effect ofenchantment. There was a play of colours upon it, such as one sees inilluminated Moorish halls, and I am almost afraid to say how much I wasenraptured by a scene which has not its equal on the whole Norwegiancoast, yet of which none of us had ever heard before. We landed a single passenger--a government surveyor apparently--on theheap of rocks beyond, and ran out under the northern headland, whichagain charmed us with a glory peculiarly its own. Here the colours werea part of the substance of the rock, and the sun but heightened andharmonised their tones. The huge projecting masses of pale yellow had amellow gleam, like golden chalk; behind them were cliffs, violet inshadow; broad strata of soft red, tipped on the edges with vermilion;thinner layers, which shot up vertically to the height of four or fivehundred feet, and striped the splendid sea-wall with lines of bronze, orange, brown, and dark red, while great rents and breaks interruptedthese marvellous frescoes with their dashes of uncertain gloom. I haveseen many wonderful aspects of nature, in many lands, but rock-paintingsuch as this I never beheld. A part of its effect may have been owing toatmospheric conditions which must be rare, even in the North; but, without such embellishments, I think the sight of this coast will noblyrepay any one for continuing his voyage beyond Hammerfest. We lingered on deck, as point after point revealed some change in thedazzling diorama, uncertain which was finest, and whether somethingstill grander might not be in store. But at last Nordkyn drew nigh, andat three o'clock the light became that of day, white and colourless. The north-east wind blew keenly across the Arctic Ocean, and we wereboth satisfied and fatigued enough to go to bed. It was the mostnorthern point of our voyage--about 71° 20', which is further north thanI ever was before, or ever wish to be again. CHAPTER XXVII. THE VARANGER FJORD. --ARCTIC LIFE. When we awoke, after six hours' sleep, with curtains drawn to keep outthe daylight, our steamer was deep in the Tana Fjord, which receives thewaters of the Tana River, the largest Lapland stream flowing into theArctic Ocean. The greater part of the day was consumed in calling at twosettlements of three houses each, and receiving and delivering mails ofone letter, or less. The shores of this fjord are steep hills of barerock, covered with patches of snow to the water's edge. The riven wallsof cliff, with their wonderful configuration and marvellous colouring, were left behind us, and there was nothing of the grand or picturesqueto redeem the savage desolation of the scenery. The chill wind, blowingdirect from Nova Zembla, made us shiver, and even the cabin saloon wasuncomfortable without a fire. After passing the most northern point ofEurope, the coast falls away to the south-east, so that on the secondnight we were again in the latitude of Hammerfest, but still within thesphere of perpetual sunshine. Our second night of sun was not so rich incolouring as the first, yet we remained on deck long enough to see theorb rise again from his lowest dip, and change evening into morning bythe same incomprehensible process. There was no golden transfigurationof the dreadful shore; a wan lustre played over the rocks--pictures ofeternal death--like a settled pallor of despair on Nature's stony face. One of the stations on this coast, named Makur, consisted of a fewfishermen's huts, at the bottom of a dismal rocky bight. There was nograss to be seen, except some tufts springing from the earth with whichthe roofs were covered, and it was even difficult to see where so muchearth had been scraped together. The background was a hopelessly barrenhill, more than half enveloped in snow. And this was midsummer--andhuman beings passed their lives here! "Those people surely deserve toenter Paradise when they die, " I remarked to my friend, "for they livein hell while upon earth. " "Not for that, " he answered, "but because itis impossible for them to commit sin. They cannot injure theirneighbours, for they have none. They cannot steal, for there is nothingto tempt them. They cannot murder, for there are none of the usualincentives to hate and revenge. They have so hard a struggle merely _tolive_, that they cannot fall into the indulgences of sense; so that ifthere is nothing recorded in their favour, there is also nothing againstthem, and they commence the next life with blank books. " "But what a life!" I exclaimed. "Men may be happy in poverty, inmisfortune, under persecution, in life-long disease even, so that theyare not wholly deprived of the genial influences of society andNature--but what is there here?" "They know no other world, " said he, "and this ignorance keeps them from being miserable. They do no morethinking than is necessary to make nets and boats, catch fish and cookthem, and build their log-houses. Nature provides for their marrying andbringing up their children, and the pastor, whom they see once in a longtime, gives them their religion ready made. " God keep them ignorant, then! was my involuntary prayer. May they never lose their blessedstupidity, while they are chained to these rocks and icy seas! May nodreams of summer and verdure, no vision of happier social conditions, orof any higher sphere of thought and action, flash a painful light on thedumb-darkness of their lives! The next day, we were in the Varanger Fjord, having passed the fortressof Vardöhuus and landed our military committee. The Norwegian shore wasnow low and tame, but no vegetation, except a little brown grass, was tobe seen. The Russian shore, opposite, and some twenty-five or thirtymiles distant, consisted of high, bold hills, which, through a glass, appeared to be partially wooded. The Varanger Fjord, to which soimportant a political interest has attached within the last few years, is about seventy miles in depth, with a general direction towards thesouth-west. The boundary-line between Norwegian and Russian Finmarkstrikes it upon the southern side, about half-way from the mouth, sothat three-fourths, or more, of the waters of the fjord belong toNorway. There is, however, a wonderful boundary-line, in addition, drawnby Nature between the alien waters. That last wave of the Gulf Streamwhich washes the North Cape and keeps the fjords of Finmark open andunfrozen the whole year through, sweeps eastward along the coast, untilit reaches the head of Varanger Fjord. Here its power is at last spent, and from this point commences that belt of solid ice which locks up theharbours of the northern coast of Russia for six months in the year. Thechange from open water to ice is no less abrupt than permanent. PastorHvoslef informed me that in crossing from Vadsö, on the northern coast, to Pasvik, the last Norwegian settlement, close upon the Russianfrontier, as late as the end of May, he got out of his boat upon theice, and drove three or four miles over the frozen sea, to reach hisdestination. The little fort of Vardöhuus, on an island at the northern entrance ofthe fjord, is not a recent defence, meant to check Russian plans in thisquarter. It was established by Christian IV. Nearly two and a halfcenturies ago. The king himself made a voyage hither, and no doubt atthat time foresaw the necessity of establishing, by military occupation, the claims of Denmark to this part of the coast. The little fortress hasactually done this service; and though a single frigate might easilybatter it to pieces, its existence has kept Russia from the ownership ofthe Varanger Fjord and the creation (as is diplomatically supposed, ) ofan immense naval station, which, though within the Arctic waters, wouldat all times of the year be ready for service. It is well known thatRussia has endeavoured to obtain possession of the northern side of thefjord, as well as of the Lyngen Fjord, near Tromsöe, towards which herLapland territory stretches out a long arm. England is particularlysuspicious of these attempts, and the treaty recently concluded betweenthe Allied Powers and Sweden had a special reference thereto. Theimportance of such an acquisition to Russia is too obvious to be pointedout, and the jealous watchfulness of England is, therefore, easy tounderstand. But it is a singular thing that the conflicting forces ofEurope find a fulcrum on a little corner of this dead, desolate, God-forsaken shore. About ten o'clock we reached Vadsö, the limit of the steamer's route. Here we had intended taking a boat, continuing our voyage to Nyborg, atthe head of the fjord, crossing thence to the Tana, and descending thatriver in season to meet the steamer in the Tana Fjord on her return. Wewere behind time, however, and the wind was light; the people informedus that we could scarcely carry out the project; so we reluctantly gaveit up, and went ashore to spend the day. Vadsö is a town of about 800inhabitants, with a secure though shallow harbour, which was crowdedwith fishing vessels and Russian traders from the White Sea. It lies onthe bleak hill-side, without a tree or bush, or a patch of grass largeenough to be seen without close inspection, and its only summer perfumeis that of dried fish. I saw in gardens attached to one or two houses afew courageous radishes and some fool-hardy potatoes, which had venturedabove ground without the least chance of living long enough to blossom. The snow had been four feet deep in the streets in the beginning ofJune, and in six weeks it would begin to fall again. A few forlorn cowswere hunting pasture over the hills, now and then looking withmelancholy resignation at the strings of codfish heads hanging up todry, on the broth of which they are fed during the winter. I took a walkand made a sketch during the afternoon, but the wind was so chill thatI was glad to come back shivering to our quarters. We obtained lodgings at the house of a baker, named Aas, who had learnedthe art of charging, and was therefore competent to conduct a hotel. Inorder to reach our room, we were obliged to pass successively throughthe family dwelling-room, kitchen, and a carpenter's workshop, but ourwindows commanded a full view of a grogshop across the way, wheredrunken Lapps were turned out with astonishing rapidity. It was themarriage month of the Lapps, and the town was full of young couples whohad come down to be joined, with their relatives and friends, all intheir gayest costumes. Through the intervention of the postmaster, Iprocured two women and a child, as subjects for a sketch. They weredressed in their best, and it was impossible not to copy the leer ofgratified vanity lurking in the corners of their broad mouths. Thesummer dress consisted of a loose gown of bright green cloth, trimmed onthe neck and sleeves with bands of scarlet and yellow, and a peculiarhead-dress, shaped like a helmet, but with a broader and flatter crest, rounded in front. This, also, was covered with scarlet cloth, andtrimmed with yellow and blue. They were greatly gratified with thedistinction, and all the other Lapps, as in Kautokeino, would havewillingly offered themselves. I found the same physical characteristicshere as there--a fresh, ruddy complexion, inclining to tawny; brightblue eyes, brown hair, high cheek-bones, and mouths of enormous width. They are not strikingly below the average size, Heine says, in one ofhis mad songs: "In Lapland the people are dirty, Flat-headed, and broad-mouthed, and small They squat round the fire while roasting Their fishes, and chatter and squall;" which is as good a description of them as can be packed into a stanza. On the present occasion they were all drunk, in addition. One of themlay for a long time at the door, with his legs doubled under him as hefell, the others stepping over his body as they went in and out. Thesepoor creatures were openly and shamelessly allowed to drug themselves, as long as their money lasted. No wonder the race is becoming extinct, when the means of destruction is so freely offered. Vadsö, although only forty miles from Vardö, at the mouth of the fjord, has a much drier and more agreeable climate, and the inhabitants aretherefore loud in praise of their place. "We have no such fogs as atVardö, " say they; "our fish dry much better, and some years we can raisepotatoes. " For the last four or five years, however, the winters havebeen getting more and more severe, and now it is impossible to procurehay enough to keep their few cattle through the winter. We had on boarda German who had been living there five years, and who appeared wellsatisfied with his lot. "I have married here, " said he; "I make a goodliving with less trouble than in Germany, and have no wish to return. "Singularly enough, there were also two Italian organ grinders on board, whom I accosted in their native language; but they seemed neithersurprised nor particularly pleased. They dropped hints of having beenengaged in some political conspiracy; and one of them said, with acurious mixture of Italian and Norsk words "_Jeg voglio ikkeritornare_. " I said the same thing ("I shall not return") as I leftVadsö. We sailed early the next morning, and in the afternoon reached Vardö, where we lay three hours. Here we took on board the three officers, whohad in the meantime made their inspection. Vardöhuus is a singlestar-shaped fort, with six guns and a garrison of twenty-seven men. During the recent war, the garrison was increased to three hundred--anunnecessary precaution, if there was really any danger of an attack tobe apprehended, so long as the defences of the place were notstrengthened. One of the officers, who had gone out fishing the nightprevious, caught eighty-three splendid cod in the space of two hours. Itwas idle sport, however, for no one would take his fish as a gift, andthey were thrown on the shore to rot. The difficulty is not in catchingbut in curing them. Owing to the dampness of the climate they cannot behung up on poles to dry slowly, like the _stock-fish_ of the Lofodens, but must be first salted and then laid on the rocks to dry, whence theterm _klip_ (cliff) fish, by which they are known in trade. At the mouth of the Tana we picked up four Englishmen, who had beensalmon fishing on the river. They were sunburnt, spotted with mosquitobites, and had had little luck, the river being full of nets and thefjord of seals, between which the best of the salmon are either caughtor devoured; but they spoke of their experience with true Englishrelish. "Oh, it was very jolly!" said one: "we were so awfully bitten bymosquitoes. Then our interpreter always lost everything just before wewanted it--think of his losing our frying-pan, so that we had to fry inthe lids of our kettles; He had a habit of falling overboard and gettingnearly drowned before we could pull him in. We had a rough time of it, but it was very jolly, I assure you!" The young fellows meant what theysaid; they were all the better for their roughing, and I wish thespindle-shanked youths who polk and flirt at Newport and Saratoga hadmanliness enough for such undertakings. We reached Hammerfest on the last day of July, and re-occupied our oldquarters. That night the sun went below the horizon for the first timein eight days, but his depth was too slight to make any darknessvisible. I was quite tired of the unending daylight, and would willinglyhave exchanged the pomp of the arctic midnight for the starlit darknessof home. We were confused by the loss of night; we lost the perceptionof time. One is never sleepy, but simply tired, and after a sleep ofeight hours by sunshine, wakes up as tired as ever. His sleep at last isbroken and irregular; he substitutes a number of short naps, distributedthrough the twenty-four hours, for the one natural repose, and finallygets into a state of general uneasiness and discomfort. A Hammerfestmerchant, who has made frequent voyages to Spitzbergen, told me that inthe latitude of 80° he never knew certainly whether it was day or night, and the cook was the only person on board who could tell him. At first the nocturnal sunshine strikes you as being wonderfullyconvenient. You lose nothing of the scenery; you can read and write asusual; you never need be in a hurry, because there is time enough foreverything. It is not necessary to do your day's work in the daytime, for no night cometh. You are never belated, and somewhat of the stressof life is lifted from your shoulders; but, after a time, you would beglad of an excuse to stop seeing, and observing, and thinking, and evenenjoying. There is no _compulsive_ rest such as darkness brings--nosweet isolation, which is the best refreshment of sleep. You lie down inthe broad day, and the summons, "Arise!" attends on every reopening ofyour eyes. I never went below and saw my fellow-passengers all asleeparound me without a sudden feeling that something was wrong: they weredrugged, or under some unnatural influence, that they thus slept so fastwhile the sunshine streamed in through the port-holes. There are some advantages of this northern summer which have presentedthemselves to me in rather a grotesque light. Think what an aid andshelter is removed from crime--how many vices which can only flourish inthe deceptive atmosphere of night, must be checked by the sober realityof daylight! No assassin can dog the steps of his victim; no burglar canwork in sunshine; no guilty lover can hold stolen interviews bymoonlight--all concealment is removed, for the sun, like the eye of God, sees everything, and the secret vices of the earth must be bold indeed, if they can bear his gaze. Morally, as well as physically, there issafety in light and danger in darkness; and yet give me the darkness andthe danger! Let the patrolling sun go off his beat for awhile, and showa little confidence in my ability to behave properly, rather than worryme with his sleepless vigilance. I have described the smells of Hammerfest, which are its principalcharacteristic. It seemed to me the dreariest place in the world onfirst landing, a week previous; but, by contrast with what we had in themeantime seen, it became rather cheerful and comfortable. I was visitinga merchant after our return, and noticed with pleasure a stunted ashabout eight feet high, in an adjoining garden. "Oh!" said he, in a toneof irritated pride, "we have plenty of trees here; there is quite aforest up the valley. " This forest, after some search, I found. Thetrees were about six feet high, and some of them might have been asthick as my wrist. In the square before the merchant's house lay a crowdof drunken Lapps, who were supplied with as much bad brandy as theywanted by a licensed grogshop. The Russian sailors made use of the sameprivilege, and we frequently heard them singing and wrangling on boardtheir White Sea junks. They were _unapproachably_ picturesque, especially after the day's work was over, when they generally engaged inhunting in the extensive forests of their beards, and exercised the lawof retaliation on all the game they caught. A long street of turf-roofed houses, whose inhabitants may be said to beunder the sod even before they die, leads along the shore of the bay toa range of flakes redolent of drying codfish. Beyond this you clamberover rocks and shingles to a low grassy headland, whereon stands apillar commemorating the measurement of a meridian line of 25° 20', fromthe Danube to the Polar Sea, which was accomplished by the Governmentsof Austria, Russia, and Sweden, between the years 1816 and 1852. Thepillar marks the northern terminus of the line, and stands in lat. 70°40' 11. 3". It is a plain shaft of polished red granite, standing on abase of grey granite, and surmounted by a bronze globe, on which a mapof the earth is roughly outlined. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE RETURN TO DARKNESS. --NORWEGIAN CHARACTER. I do not intend to trace our return, step by step, down the Norwegiancoast. The splendid weather which prevailed during our upward voyage, enabled us to see all the interesting points, leaving only those partswhich we missed in the few hours devoted to sleep, to give a littlenovelty to our return. During the whole trip we had not a drop ofrain, --the rarest good fortune in these latitudes, --and were thereforetwice enabled to enjoy, to the fullest extent, the sublime scenery ofthe Lofoden Isles and the coast of Nordland. This voyage has not itslike in the world. The traveller, to whom all other lands are familiar, has here a new volume of the most wonderful originality and variety, opened to him. The days are illuminated pages, crowded with pictures, the forms and hues of which he can never forget. After I returned to thezone of darkness, and recovered from the stress and tension of threeweeks of daylight, I first fully appreciated the splendours of thearctic sun. My eyes were still dazzled with the pomp of colour, and thethousand miles of coast, as I reviewed them in memory, with their chaosof island-pyramids of shattered rock, their colossal cliffs, theirtwisted fjords, and long fjeld-levels of eternal snow, swam in a sea ofsaffron and rosy light, in comparison with which the pale blue dayaround me seemed dull and dead. My dream of the North, in becoming areality, has retained the magical atmosphere of dreams, and basks in thesame gorgeous twilight which irradiates the Scandinavian sagas. I was particularly struck during the return, with the rapid progress ofsummer--the flying leaps with which she clears her short course. Amongthe Lofodens, the potatoes were coming into blossom, and the rye andbarley into head; the grass was already cut, in many places, and dryingon poles, and the green of the woods and meadows showed the dark, richcharacter of southern lands. Owing to this rapidity of growth, all themore hardy varieties of vegetables may be successfully cultivated. Mr. Thomas informed me that his peas and beans at Kaafjord (lat. 70° N. )grew three inches in twenty-four hours, and, though planted six weekslater than those about Christiania, came to maturity at the same time. He has even succeeded in raising excellent cauliflowers. But very few ofthe farmers have vegetable gardens, and those which I saw contained onlyradishes and lettuce, with a few useful herbs. One finds the samepassion for flowers, however, as in Northern Sweden, and the poorest arerarely without a rose or a geranium in their windows. Pastor Hvoslef, who was again our fellow-traveller for a few hours, gaveme some interesting information concerning the Lapps. They are, itseems, entitled to the right of suffrage, and to representation in theStorthing, equally with the Norwegians. The local jurisdiction repeatson a small scale what the Storthing transacts on a large one, beingentirely popular in its character, except that the _vogts_ and _länsmen_(whose powers are somewhat similar to those of our judges and countrymagistrates) are not elected. But each district chooses from among itsinhabitants a committee to confer upon and arrange all ordinary localmatters. These committees, in turn, choose persons to constitute ahigher body, who control the reciprocal relations of the severaldistricts, and intervene in case of difficulties between them. Thesystem is necessarily simpler and somewhat more primitive in itscharacter than our local organisations in America; but it appears atpresent to answer every purpose. The heavy responsibility resting uponjudges in Norway--the severity of the checks and penalties by whichtheir probity is insured--probably contributes to make theadministration of the laws more efficacious and easy. The Lapps are nota difficult people to govern, and much of the former antagonism betweenthem and the poorer classes of the Norwegians has passed away. There islittle, if any, amalgamation of the two races, nor will there ever be, but there is probably as little conflict between them as is compatiblewith the difference of blood. At Tromsöe, a tall, strong, clerical gentleman came on board, who provedto be the noted Pastor Lamers, one of the first if not the very firstClergyman in Norway, who has refused to receive the governmentsupport--or, in other words, has seceded from the Church, as a Stateestablishment, while adhering to all its fundamental doctrines. It isthe first step towards the separation of Church and State, which mustsooner or later come, in Norway and in Sweden. He has a congregation ofthree hundred members, in Tromsöe, and is about organising a church atGibostad, on the island of Senjen. He has some peculiar views, Ibelieve, in relation to the baptism of children, and insists that theusual absolution dealt out by the Pastors is of no effect without fullconfession and the specification of particular sins--but in otherrespects he is entirely orthodox, retaining even the ceremonial of theEucharist. This, in the Lutheran church of Norway, comes so near to theRoman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, that one cannot easilyperceive any difference. Instead of bread, an unleavened wafer isadministered to the communicants, the priest saying, as he gives it, "This is the _true_ body and blood of Jesus Christ. " Mr. Forrester, adevout admirer of the Church, which he thinks identical with that ofEngland in all its essentials, says, "The Lutherans reject the Romishdoctrine of transubstantiation, but they hold that of a spiritual andineffable union of the divine nature with the elements, the substance ofwhich remains unchanged. This is called _consubstantiation_. " Verily, the difference between tweedledum and tweedledee--one being as absurd asthe other. No one, coming from a land where all sects stand upon an equal footing, and where every church must depend for existence on its own inherentvitality, can fail to be struck with the effete and decrepit state ofreligion in Sweden and Norway. It is a body of frigid mechanical formsand ceremonies, animated here and therewith a feeble spark of spirituallife, but diffusing no quickening and animating glow. I have often beenparticularly struck with the horror with which the omission of certainforms was regarded by persons in whom I could discover no trace of anyreligious principle. The Church has a few dissensions to combat; she hasnot been weakened by schism; but she is slowly ossifying from sheerinertia. The Reformation needs to be reformed again, and perhaps thetardy privileges granted to the _Haugianer_ and _Läsare_--the northernMethodists--may result in producing a body of Dissenters large enough toexcite emulation, action, and improvement. In Norway, the pastors havethe best salaries and the easiest places of all government officials. Those who conscientiously discharge their duties have enough to do; butwere this universally the case, one would expect to find the people lessfilthy, stupid, and dishonest than they are in many parts of thecountry. A specimen of the intelligence of one, who is now a member ofthe Storthing, was communicated to me by a gentleman who heard it. Theclergyman advocated the establishment of telegraph lines in Norway, "notfor the sake of sending news, " said he, "that is of no consequence. Butit is well known that no wolf can pass under a telegraph wire, and if wecan get lines put up throughout the country, all the wolves will beobliged to leave!" Of course, I do not mean to assert that the Norwegianclergymen, as a body, are not sincere, zealous, well-informed men. Theevil lies rather in that system which makes religion as much a branch ofgovernment service as law or diplomacy; and which, until very recently, has given one sect an exclusive monopoly of the care of human souls. I had a strong desire to converse with Pastor Lamers in relation to thestand he has taken, but he was surrounded by a crowd of persons duringhis stay on board, and no opportunity presented itself. The sensationwhich his presence produced, showed that there are restless elements atwork in the mind of the people. The stony crust is beginning to heaveand split at last. Even the deck-passengers gathered into little groupsand talked earnestly. Two gentlemen near me were discussing the questionof an Established Church, one contending, that a variety of sects tendedonly to confuse, perplex, and unchristianise the uneducated, unthinkingclass, while the other asserted that this very class adhered mosttenaciously to whatever faith had been taught them. At this moment awoman standing near us exclaimed: "There were false prophets in alltimes, and there are false prophets now! We must beware of them!"--theearnestness of her speech affording a good comment on the argument justproduced. Whatever may be the popular opinion concerning the course ofPastor Lamers, I could not but notice the marked respect displayed byevery one who approached him. In passing Hindöe we saw two magnificent golden eagles wheeling aroundone of the loftiest cliffs. The wind blew strongly from the south-west, increasing until we had what sailors call a dry gale in crossing theWest Fjord, but it abated the next day and by the late twilight werecrossed the arctic circle. This night there was great rejoicing onboard, at the discovery of a star. We had not seen one for a month, andsome of the passengers coming from Finmark had been more than two monthsin daylight. While we were all gazing upon it as upon some extraordinaryphenomenon, a flood of yellow lamp-light suddenly streamed through thecabin skylight. The sky was still brilliant with sunset in the north, but it was dark enough to see to sleep. We could not yet cover ourselvesall over, even as with a cloak; still there was a shelter and friendlycovering for the helpless body. Our sleep became sound and regular, andits old power of restoration was doubly sweet, since we had known whatit was to be deprived of it. Our fellow-passengers, after leaving Carlsoe, where the young Englishmenstopped to hunt, were almost exclusively Norwegian, and this gave usfurther opportunities of becoming acquainted with some peculiarities ofthe national character. Intelligent Norwegians, especially those whohave travelled, are exceedingly courteous, gentlemanly, and agreeablepersons. The three officers on board were men of unusual intelligenceand refinement, and we considered ourselves fortunate in having theircompany during the entire voyage. The _landhand lare_, or countrymerchants, and government officials of the lower ranks, exhibit morereserve, and not unfrequently a considerable amount of ignorance andprejudice. Perhaps the most general feature of the Norwegian characteris an excessive national vanity, which is always on the alert, and firesup on the slightest provocation. Say everything you like, except thatNorway in any respect is surpassed by any other country. One is assailedwith questions about his impressions of the scenery, people, government, &c. --a very natural and pardonable curiosity, it is true, and one onlydemands in return that his candour be respected, and no offence taken. This, however, is rarely the case. If there is no retaliatory answer onthe spot, you hear a remark days afterwards which shows how your mildcensure has rankled in the mind of the hearer. My friend was asked by apassenger whether he did not think the women of Finmark very beautiful. It was impossible to answer in the affirmative: the questioner went offin high dudgeon, and did not speak to him again for several days. In the Varanger Fjord, we had pretty freely expressed our impressions ofthe desolate coast. Afterwards on returning past the grand cliff sceneryof Nordkyn, we were admiring some bold formation of the rocks, when aNorwegian came up and said, in a tone of angry irony: "Ah, you find alittle to admire at last, do you? You find _some_ beauty in our country, after all?" So in regard to the government. The Norwegians may be justlyproud of their constitution, which is as republican in its character asour own. There is so much in the administration of the government whichevery one must heartily commend, that they should be less sensitive inregard to minor faults. This sensitiveness, however, is partly accountedfor, when we remember that for four hundred years Norway was a Danishprovince, and that only forty-three years ago she leaped at once fromsubjection to a freedom such as no other country in Europe enjoys. Theintense pride and self-glorification of the people resembles that of ayouth who for the first time assumes a dress-coat and standing collar. King Oscar, on his accession to the throne, gave the country a separatenational flag, and nowhere does one see such a display of flags. Allover the land and all along the shores, the colours of Norway areflying. Jealousy of Sweden and dislike of the Swedes are inherited feelings, andare kept alive by a mutual prejudice on the part of the latter people. One cannot but smile a little at the present union of Sweden and Norway, when he finds that the countries have separate currencies, neither ofwhich will pass at its full value in the other--separate tariffs, and ofcourse Custom-house examinations between the two, and, if the Norwegianshad their way, would have separate diplomatic representatives abroad. Yet the strength of Norway is undoubtedly in her alliance with Sweden:alone, she would be but a fourth-rate power. Enough has been done tosatisfy her national feeling and secure her liberties against assault, and it is now time that this unnecessary jealousy and mistrust of akindred race should cease. The Swedes have all the honesty which theNorwegians claim for themselves, more warmth and geniality of character, and less selfish sharpness and shrewdness. Mügge tells a story of anumber of Swedes who were at a dinner party in Paris, where the healthof "the King of Sweden and Norway" was proposed and drunk with greatenthusiasm. One glass was observed to be untouched. It belonged to aNorwegian, who, when called upon for an explanation, said: "I cannotdrink such a toast as this, but I will drink the health of the King ofNorway, who is also King of Sweden!" One cannot find fault with a people for their patriotism. I have alwaysadmired that love of _Gamle Norge_ which shines through Norwegianhistory, song, and saga--but when it is manifested in such ridiculousextremes, one doubts the genuineness of the feeling, and suspects it ofbeing alloyed with some degree of personal vanity. There are still evilsto be eradicated, --reproaches to be removed, --reforms to be achieved, which claim all the best energies of the best men of the country, andpositive harm is done by concealing or denying the true state ofthings. CHAPTER XXIX. DRONTHEIM AND BERGEN. We spent another day and a half in Drontheim, before reshipping in thesteamer for Bergen. With the exception of a trip to the Lierfoss, orfalls of the Nid, however, it was by no means a satisfactory sojourn. The hotel was full, and we could only get quarters in the billiard-room, through which other guests were continually passing and repassing. Twosmall boys were quite inadequate to the service; the table d'hote wasthe scantiest I ever saw, and the charges at the rate of three dollars aday. The whole of Sunday was consumed in an attempt to recover ourcarrioles, which we left behind us on embarking for Hammerfest. Theservants neglected to get them on Saturday evening, as we had ordered, and in the morning the man who had the key of the warehouse went intothe country, taking it with him. The whole day was spent in searchingand waiting, and it was only by unremitting exertions that we succeededin putting them on board in the evening. Owing to this annoyance, I wasunable to attend service in the cathedral, or even to see the inside ofit. Our drive to the Lierfoss, in the evening, was an exquisite enjoyment. The valley of the Nid, behind Drontheim, is one of the most carefullycultivated spots in Norway. Our road led up the stream, overlooking richlevels of grain and hay fields, studded with large and handsomefarm-houses, while the lower slopes of the hills and the mound-likeknolls scattered along their bases, were framed to the very summit, steep as they were. The whole scene was like a piece of landscapegardening, full of the loveliest effects, which were enhanced by thecontrast of the grey, sterile mountains by which the picture was framed. The soft, level sunshine, streaming through the rifts of brokenthunder-clouds in the west, slowly wandered over the peaceful valley, here lighting up a red-roofed homestead, there a grove in full summerfoliage, or a meadow of so brilliant an emerald that it seemed to shineby its own lustre. As we approached the Lierfoss, the road was barredwith a great number of gates, before which waited a troop of raggedboys, who accompanied us the whole of the way, with a pertinacity equalto that of the little Swiss beggars. The Nid here makes two falls about half a mile apart, the lower onebeing eighty, and the upper one ninety feet in height. The water is of adark olive-green colour, and glassy transparency, and so deep that atthe brink it makes huge curves over the masses of rock in its bedwithout breaking into the faintest ripple. As you stand on a giantboulder above it, and contrast the swift, silent rush with thethundering volume of amber-tinted spray which follows, you feel in itsfull force the strange fascination of falling water--the temptation toplunge in and join in its headlong revelry. Here, however, I must admitthat the useful is not always the beautiful. The range of smoky millsdriven by a sluice from the fall had better be away. The upper fall isdivided in the centre by a mass of rock, and presents a broader and moreimposing picture, though the impetus of the water is not so great. The coast between Drontheim and Bergen is, on the whole, much lessstriking than that further north; but it has some very grand features. The outer islands are, with few exceptions, low and barren, but thecoast, deeply indented with winding fjords, towers here and there intosublime headlands, and precipitous barriers of rock. Christiansund, where we touched the first afternoon, is a singularly picturesque place, built on four islands, separated by channels in the form of a cross. Thebare, rounded masses of grey rock heave up on all sides behind thehouses, which are built along the water's edge; here and there a tree ofsuperb greenness shines against the colourless background, and themountains of the mainland, with their tints of pink and purple, completethe picture. The sun was burningly hot, and the pale-green waterreflected the shores in its oily gloss; but in severe storms, I wastold, it is quite impossible to cross from one island to another, andthe different parts of the town sometimes remain for days in a state ofcomplete isolation. I rose very early next morning, to have a view ofMolde and the enchanting scenery of the Romsdals-fjord. Theprosperous-looking town, with its large square houses, its suburbancottages and gardens, on the slope of a long green hill, crowned withwoods, was wholly Swiss in its appearance, but the luminous morningvapors hovering around the Alpine peaks in the east, entirely hid themfrom our view. In this direction lies the famous Romsdal, which manytravellers consider the grandest specimen of Norwegian scenery. Unfortunately we could not have visited it without taking an entireweek, and we were apprehensive lest the fine weather, which we had nowenjoyed for twenty-four days, should come to an end before we were donewith the Bergenstift. It is almost unexampled that travellers make thevoyage from Drontheim to the Varanger Fjord and back without a cloudyday. While we had perpetual daylight, the tourists whom we left behindwere drenched with continual rains. Aalesund is another island port, smaller than Christiansund, but full aspicturesque. The intense heat and clearness of the day, the splendour ofthe sunshine, which turned the grassy patches on the rocks into lustrousvelvet, and the dark, dazzling blue of the sea belonged rather tosouthern Italy than to Norway. As we approached Bergen, however, the skybecame gradually overcast, and the evening brought us clouds andshowers. Not far from Aalesund was the castle of Rollo, the conqueror ofNormandy. All this part of the coast is Viking ground: from these fjordswent forth their piratical dragons, and hither they returned, laden withbooty, to rest and carouse in their strongholds. They were thebuccaneers of the north in their time, bold, brave, with the virtueswhich belong to courage and hardihood, but coarse, cruel, and brutal. The Viking of Scandinavian song is a splendid fellow; but his original, if we may judge from his descendants, was a stupid, hard-headed, lustful, and dirty giant, whom we should rather not have had for acompanion. Harold Haarfager may have learnt in Constantinople to washhis face, and comb his beautiful hair, but I doubt if many of hisfollowers imitated him. Let us hope that Ingeborg changed her dressoccasionally, and that Balder's temple was not full of fleas; thatThorsten Vikingsson placed before his guests something better than_fladbröd_ and rancid butter; and that Björn and Frithiof acted ashonestly towards strangers as towards each other. The Viking chiefs, undoubtedly, must have learned the comfort of cleanliness and thedelights of good living, but if such habits were general, the nation hasgreatly degenerated since their time. We stayed on deck until midnight, notwithstanding the rain, to see thegrand rock of Hornelen, a precipice 1200 feet high. The clouds lifted alittle, and there was a dim, lurid light in the sky as our steamer sweptunder the awful cliff. A vast, indistinct mass, reaching apparently tothe zenith, the summit crowned with a pointed tour, resembling theCathedral of Drontheim, and the sides scarred with deep fissures, loomedover us. Now a splintered spire disengaged itself from the gloom, andstood defined against the sky; lighter streaks marked the spots whereportions had slid away; but all else was dark, uncertain, and sublime. Our friendly captain had the steamer's guns discharged as we wereabreast of the highest part. There were no separate echoes, but onetremendous peal of sound, prolonged like the note of an organ-pipe, andgradually dying away at the summit in humming vibrations. Next morning, we were sailing in a narrow strait, between perpendicularcliffs, fluted like basaltic pillars. It was raining dismally, but weexpected nothing else in the neighbourhood of Bergen. In this city theaverage number of rainy days in a year is _two hundred_. Bergen weatherhas become a by-word throughout the north, and no traveller ventures tohope for sunshine when he turns his face thither. "Is it still rainingat Bergen?" ask the Dutch skippers when they meet a Norwegian captain. "Yes, blast you; is it still blowing at the Texel?" is generally theresponse. We took on board four or five lepers, on their way to the hospital atBergen. A piece of oil-cloth had been thrown over some spars to shieldthem from the rain, and they sat on deck, avoided by the otherpassengers, a melancholy picture of disease and shame. One was a boy offourteen, upon whose face wart-like excrescences were beginning toappear; while a woman, who seemed to be his mother, was hideouslyswollen and disfigured. A man, crouching down with his head between hishands, endeavoured to hide the seamed and knotted mass of protrudingblue flesh, which had once been a human face. The forms of leprosy, elephantiasis, and other kindred diseases, which I have seen in theEast, and in tropical countries, are not nearly so horrible. For theseunfortunates there was no hope. Some years, more or less, of a lifewhich is worse than death, was all to which they could look forward. Nocure has yet been discovered for this terrible disease. There are twohospitals in Bergen, one of which contains about five hundred patients;while the other, which has recently been erected for the reception ofcases in the earlier stages, who may be subjected to experimentalcourses of treatment, has already one hundred. This form of leprosy issupposed to be produced partly by an exclusive diet of salt fish, andpartly by want of personal cleanliness. The latter is the most probablecause, and one does not wonder at the result, after he has had a littleexperience of Norwegian filth. It is the awful curse which falls uponsuch beastly habits of life. I wish the Norwegians could be madeMussulmen for awhile, for the sake of learning that cleanliness is notonly next to godliness, but a necessary part of it. I doubt theexistence of filthy Christians, and have always believed that St. Jeromewas atrociously slandered by the Italian painters. But is there noresponsibility resting upon the clergymen of the country, who have somuch influence over their flocks, and who are themselves clean andproper persons? Bergen is also, as I was informed, terribly scourged by venerealdiseases. Certainly, I do not remember a place, where there are so fewmen--tall, strong, and well-made as the people generally are--withoutsome visible mark of disease or deformity. A physician of the city hasrecently endeavoured to cure syphilis in its secondary stage, by meansof inoculation, having first tried the experiment upon himself; andthere is now a hospital where this form of treatment is practiced upontwo or three hundred patients, with the greatest success, as anotherphysician informed me. I intended to have visited it, as well as thehospital for lepers; but the sight of a few cases, around the door ofthe latter establishment, so sickened me, that I had no courage toundertake the task. Let me leave these disagreeable themes, and say that Bergen is one ofthe most charmingly picturesque towns in all the North. Its name, "TheMountain, " denotes one of its most striking features. It is built upontwo low capes, which project from the foot of a low mountain, twothousand feet high, while directly in its rear lies a lovely littlelake, about three miles in circumference. On the end of the northernheadland stands the fortress of Berghenhuus, with the tall square massof Walkendorf's Tower, built upon the foundations of the former palaceof King Olaf Kyrre, the founder of the city. The narrow harbour betweenis crowded with fishing-vessels, --during the season often numbering fromsix to eight hundred, --and beyond it the southern promontory, quitecovered with houses, rises steeply from the water. A public grove, behind the fortress, delights the eye with its dark-green mounds offoliage; near it rise the twin towers of the German Church, which boastsan age of nearly seven hundred years, and the suburbs on the steepmountain-sides gradually vanish among gardens and country-villas, whichare succeeded by farms and grazing fields, lying under the topmostridges of the bare rock. The lake in the rear is surrounded with thecountry residences of the rich merchants--a succession of tastefuldwellings, each with its garden and leafy arbours, its flowers andfountains, forming a rich frame to the beautiful sheet of water. Avenuesof fine old lindens thread this suburban paradise, and seats, placed atthe proper points, command views of which one knows not the loveliest. Everything has an air of ancient comfort, taste, and repose. One seesyet, the footsteps of mighty Hansa, who for three centuries reigned heresupreme. The northern half of Bergen is still called the "GermanQuarter, " and there are very few citizens of education who do not speakthe language. With one or two exceptions, the streets are rough and narrow. There areno quaint peculiarities in the architecture, the houses being all ofwood, painted white or some light colour. At every door stands a barrelfilled with water, to be ready in case of fire. Owing to the greatnumber of fishing-vessels and its considerable foreign trade, Bergen isa much more lively and bustling place than either Christiania orDrontheim. The streets are well populated, and the great square at thehead of the harbour is always thronged with a motley concourse offishermen, traders, and country people. Drunkenness seems to be aleading vice. I saw, at least, fifty people, more or less intoxicated, in the course of a short walk, one afternoon. The grog shops, however, are rigidly closed at six o'clock on Saturday evening, and remain sountil Monday morning, any violation or evasion of the law being severelypunished. The same course has been adopted here as in Sweden; the priceof brandy has been doubled, by restrictions on its manufacture, andevery encouragement has been afforded to breweries. The beer ofChristiania is equal in flavour and purity to any in the world, and itis now in great demand all over Norway. The day after our arrival the sky cleared again, and we were favouredwith superb weather; which might well be the case, as the people told meit had previously been raining every day for a month. The gardens, groves, and lawns of velvet turf, so long moistened, now blazed out withsplendid effect in the hot August sunshine. "Is there such a greenanywhere else in the world?" asked my friend. "If anywhere, only inEngland--but scarcely there, " I was obliged to confess. Yet there was anacquaintance of mine in Bergen, a Hammerfest merchant, who, in thisrare climax of summer beauty, looked melancholy and dissatisfied. "Iwant to get back to the north, " said he, "I miss our Arctic summer. These dark nights are so disagreeable, that I am very tired of them. There is nothing equal to our three months of daylight, and they alonereconcile us to the winter. " Who will say, after this, that anythingmore than the fundamental qualities of human nature are the same in allclimates? But from the same foundation you may build either a Greciantemple or a Chinese pagoda. The lions of Bergen are soon disposed of. After you have visited thefortress and admired the sturdy solidity of Walkendorf's Tower, you maywalk into the German church which stands open (or did, when we werethere), without a soul to prevent you from carrying off some of thequeer old carved work and pictures. The latter are hideous enough to beperfectly safe, and the church, though exceedingly quaint andinteresting, is not beautiful. Then you may visit the museum, whichcontains an excellent collection of northern fish, and some very curiousold furniture. The collection of antiquities is not remarkable; but itshould be remembered that the museum has been created within the lasttwenty years, and is entirely the result of private taste andenterprise. One of the most singular things I saw was a specimen (saidto be the only one in existence) of a fish called the "herring-king, "about twelve feet in length by one in thickness, and with something ofthe serpent in its appearance. The old Kraaken has not shown himself fora number of years, possibly frightened away by the appearance ofsteamers in his native waters. In spite of all the testimony whichCapell Brooke has collected in favour of his existence, he is fastbecoming a myth. Bergen, we found, is antiquated in more respects than one. On sendingfor horses, on the morning fixed for our departure, we were coolly toldthat we should have to wait twenty-four hours; but after threatening toput the law in force against the _skyds-skaffer_, he promised to bringthem by one o'clock in the afternoon. In this city of 30, 000inhabitants, no horses are kept in readiness at the post-station; butare furnished by farmers somewhere at a distance. In the matter ofhotels, however, Bergen stands in the front rank of progress, rivallingChristiania and Drontheim. The fare is not so good, and the charges areequally high. There are two little inns, with five or six rooms each, and one boarding-house of the same size. We could only get one smallroom, into which all three were packed, at a charge of a dollar and aquarter per day; while for two wretched meals we paid a dollar and ahalf each. The reader may judge of our fare from the fact that one dayour soup was raspberry juice and water, and another time, cold beer, flavoured with pepper and cinnamon. Add tough beafsteaks swimming ingrease and rancid butter, and you have the principal ingredients. Forthe first time in my life I found my digestive powers unequal to thetask of mastering a new national diet. CHAPTER XXX. A TRIP TO THE VÖRING-FOSS. After waiting only five hours, we obtained three horses and drove awayfrom Bergen. It was a superb afternoon, spotlessly blue overhead, withstill bluer water below, and hills of dark, velvety verdure throbbingand sparkling in the sunshine, and the breezes from off the fjord. Wesped past the long line of suburban gardens, through the linden avenues, which, somehow or other, suggested to me the days of the HanseaticLeague, past Tivoli, the Hoboken of Bergen, and on the summit of thehill beyond stopped to take a parting look at the beautiful city. Shesat at the foot of her guardian mountain, across the lake, her whitetowers and red roofs rising in sharp relief against the purplebackground of the islands which protect her from the sea. In colour, form, and atmospheric effect, the picture was perfect. Norway isparticularly fortunate in the position and surroundings of her threechief cities. Bergen bears away the palm, truly, but either of them hasfew rivals in Europe. Our road led at first over well-cultivated hills dotted withcomfortable farmhouses--a rolling, broken country enclosed by rugged andsterile groups of hills. After some miles we turned northward into anarrow valley running parallel to the coast line. The afternoon sun, shining over the shoulder of the mountain-ridge on our left, illuminatedwith dazzling effect the green pastures in the bosom of the valley, andthe groves of twinkling birch and sombre fir on the opposite slope. Ihave never seen purer tints in the sunshine--never a softer transparencyin the shadows. The landscape was ideal in its beauty, except thehouses, whose squalor and discomfort were real. Our first station layoff the road, on a hill. A very friendly old man promised to get ushorses as soon as possible, and his wife set before us the best fare thehouse afforded--milk, oaten shingles, and bad cheese. The house wasdirty, and the aspect of the family bed, which occupied one end of theroom, merely divided by boards into separate compartments for theparents, children and servants was sufficient to banish sleep. Notwithstanding the poverty of the place, the old woman set a good valueupon her choice provender. The horses were soon forthcoming, and theman, whose apparent kindness increased every moment, said to me, "Have Inot done well? Is it not very well that I have brought you horses sosoon?" I assented cheerfully, but he still repeated the same questions, and I was stupid enough not to discover their meaning, until he added;"I have done everything so well, that you ought to give me something forit. " The naïve manner of this request made it seem reasonable, and Igave him something accordingly, though a little disappointed, for I hadcongratulated myself on finding at last a friendly and obliging_skyds-skaffer_ (Postmaster) in Norway. Towards evening we reached a little village on the shore of theOsterfjord. Here the road terminated, and a water station of eighteenmiles in length lay before us. The fjords on the western coast of Norwayare narrow, shut in by lofty and abrupt mountains, and penetrate farinto the land--frequently to the distance of a hundred miles. Thegeneral direction of the valleys is parallel to the line of the coast, intersecting the fjords at nearly a right angle, so that they, inconnection with these watery defiles, divide the mountains into immenseirregular blocks, with very precipitous sides and a summit table-landvarying from two to four thousand feet above the sea level. For thisreason there is no continuous road in all western Norway, but alternatelinks of land and water--boats and post-horses. The deepest fjords reachvery nearly to the spinal ridge of the mountain region, and a land-roadfrom Bergen to this line would be more difficult to construct than anyof the great highways across the Alps. In proportion to her populationand means, Norway has done more for roads than any country in the world. Not only her main thoroughfares, but even her by-ways, give evidence ofastonishing skill, industry, and perseverance. The Storthing hasrecently appropriated a sum of $188, 000 for the improvement of roads, inaddition to the repairs which the farmers are obliged to make, and whichconstitute almost their only tax, as there is no assessment whateverupon landed property. There seems a singular incongruity, however, infinding such an evidence of the highest civilisation, in connection withthe semi-barbaric condition of the people. Generally, the improvementof the means of communication in a country is in the ratio of its socialprogress. As we were obliged to wait until morning before commencing our voyage, we set about procuring supper and lodging. Some dirty beds in a dirtyupper room constituted the latter, but the former was a doubtful affair. The landlord, who persisted in calling me "Dock, " made a foragingexcursion among the houses, and, after some time, laid before us asalted and smoked leg of mutton, some rancid butter, hard oaten bread, and pestilential cheese. I ate as a matter of duty towards my body, butmy companions were less conscientious. We deserve no credit for havingrisen early the next morning, neither was there any self-denial in thefact of our being content with a single cup of coffee. The boatmen, fivein number, who had been engaged the evening before, took our carriolesapart and stowed them in the stern, while we three disposed ourselvesvery uneasily in the narrow bow. As we were about pushing off, one ofthe men stepped upon a stone and shouted in a loud voice, "Come and helpus, fairies!"--whereat the others laughed heartily. The wind was againstus, but I thought the men hugged the shore much more than was necessary. I noticed the same thing afterwards, and spoke of it, but they statedthat there were strong currents in these fjords, setting towards thesea. The water, in fact, is but slightly brackish, and the ebb and flowof the tides is hardly felt. The scenery in the Osterfjord is superb. Mountains, 2000 feet high, inclose and twist it between their interlocking bases. Cliffs of nakedrock overhang it, and cataracts fall into it in long zigzag chains offoam. Here and there a little embayed dell rejoices with settlement andcultivation, and even on the wildest steeps, where it seems almostimpossible for a human foot to find hold, the people scramble at thehazard of their lives, to reap a scanty harvest of grass for the winter. Goats pasture everywhere, and our boatmen took delight in making theewes follow us along the cliffs, by imitating the bleating of kids. Towards noon we left the main body of the fjord and entered a narrow armwhich lay in eternal shadow under tremendous walls of dark rock. Thelight and heat of noonday were tropical in their silent intensity, painting the summits far above with dashes of fierce colour, while theirbases sank in blue gloom to meet the green darkness of the water. Againand again the heights enclosed us, so that there was no outlet; but theyopened as if purposely to make way for us, until our keel grated thepebbly barrier of a narrow valley, where the land road was resumed. Fourmiles through this gap brought us to another branch of the same fjord, where we were obliged to have our carrioles taken to pieces and shippedfor a short voyage. At its extremity the fjord narrowed, and still loftier mountainsoverhung it. Shut in by these, like some palmy dell in the heart of theporphyry mountains of the Sahara, lay Bolstadören, a miracle ofgreenness and beauty. A mantle of emerald velvet, falling in the softestslopes and swells to the water's edge, was thrown upon the valley; thebarley had been cut and bound to long upright poles to dry, rising likegolden pillars from the shaven stubble; and, to crown all, above thelanding-place stood a two-story house, with a jolly fat landlord smokingin the shade, and half-a-dozen pleasant-looking women gossipingin-doors. "Can we get anything to eat?" was the first question. "Thegentlemen can have fresh salmon and potatoes, and red wine if they wishit, " answered the mistress. Of course we wished it; we wished for anyfood clean enough to be eatable, and the promise of such fare was likethe falling of manna in the desert. The salmon, fresh from the stream, was particularly fine; the fish here is so abundant that the landlordhad caught 962, as he informed us, in the course of one season. We had but two miles of land before another sheet of water intervened, and our carrioles were again taken to pieces. The postillions andboatmen along this route were great scamps, frequently asking more thanthe legal fare, and in one instance threatened to prevent us from goingon unless we paid it. I shall not bore the reader with accounts of ourvarious little squabbles on the road, all of which tended more and moreto convince us, that unless the Norwegians were a great deal morefriendly, kind, and honest a few years ago than they are now, they havebeen more over-praised than any people in the world. I must say, however, that they are bungling swindlers, and could only be successfulwith the greenest of travellers. The moment an imposition is resisted, and the stranger shows himself familiar with the true charges andmethods of travel, they give up the attempt; but the desire to cheat isonly less annoying to one than cheating itself. The fees for travellingby _skyds_ are, it is true, disproportionably low, and in many instancesthe obligation to furnish horses is no doubt an actual loss to thefarmer. Very often we would have willingly paid a small increase uponthe legal rates if it had been asked for as a favour; but when it wasboldly demanded as a right, and backed by a falsehood, we went not astiver beyond the letter of the law. Landing at Evanger, an intelligent landlord, who had four brothers inAmerica, gave us return horses to Vossevangen, and we enjoyed the longtwilight of the warm summer evening, while driving along the hills whichoverlook the valley connecting the lakes of Vossevangen and Evanger. Itwas a lovely landscape, ripe with harvest, and the air full of mellow, balmy odours from the flowers and grain. The black spire of Vossevangenchurch, standing dark against the dawning moonlight, was the welcometermination of our long day's journey, and not less welcome were ourclean and comfortable quarters in the house of a merchant there. Here weleft the main road across Norway, and made an excursion to theVöring-Foss, which lies beyond the Hardanger Fjord, about fifty milesdistant, in a south-eastern direction. Vossevangen, in the splendour of a cloudless morning, was even morebeautiful than as a moonlit haven of repose. The compact little villagelay half buried in trees, clustered about the massive old church, withits black, pointed tower, and roof covered with pitched shingles, in thecentre of the valley, while the mountains around shone bald and brightthrough floating veils of vapour which had risen from the lake. Thepeople were all at work in the fields betimes, cutting and stacking thebarley. The grass-fields, cut smooth and close, and of the softest andevenest green, seemed kept for show rather than for use. The bottom ofthe valley along which we drove, was filled with an unbroken pineforest, inclosing here and there a lake, "Where Heaven itself, brought down to Earth, Seemed fairer than above;" while the opposite mountain rose rich with harvest fields andfarmhouses. There are similar landscapes between Fribourg and Vevay, inSwitzerland--finer, perhaps, except that all cultivated scenery inNorway gains wonderfully in effect from the savage environment of thebarren fjelds. Here, cultivation is somewhat of a phenomenon, and arich, thickly settled valley strikes one with a certain surprise. TheNorwegians have been accused of neglecting agriculture; but I do not seethat much more could be expected of them. The subjugation of virginsoil, as we had occasion to notice, is a serious work. At the best, thegrain harvests are uncertain, while fish are almost as sure as theseason; and so the surplus agricultural population either emigrates orremoves to the fishing grounds on the coast. There is, undoubtedly, aconsiderable quantity of wild land which could be made arable, but thesame means, applied to the improvement of that which is at present undercultivation, would accomplish far more beneficent results. Leaving the valley, we drove for some time through pine forests, andhere, as elsewhere, had occasion to notice the manner in which thissource of wealth has been drained of late years. The trees were verystraight and beautiful, but there were none of more than middle age. Allthe fine old timber had been cut away; all Norway, in fact, has beendespoiled in like manner, and the people are but just awaking to thefact, that they are killing a goose which lays golden eggs. Thegovernment, so prudently economical that it only allows $100, 000 worthof silver to be quarried annually in the mines of Kongsberg, lest thesupply should be exhausted, has, I believe, adopted measures for thepreservation of the forests; but I am not able to state their precisecharacter. Except in valleys remote from the rivers and fjords, one nowfinds very little mature timber. "The tallest pine, Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great admiral, " I have not yet seen. We at last came upon a little lake, in a close glen with walls 1000 feethigh. Not suspecting that we had ascended much above the sea-level, wewere surprised to see the gorge all at once open below us, revealing adark-blue lake, far down among the mountains. We stood on the brink of awall, over which the stream at our side fell in a "hank" of dividedcataracts. Our road was engineered with great difficulty to the bottomof the steep, whence a gentler descent took us to the hamlet ofVasenden, at the head of the lake. Beyond this there was no road forcarrioles, and we accordingly gave ours in charge of a bright, activeand intelligent little postmaster, twelve years old. He and his motherthen rowed us across the lake to the village of Graven, whence there wasa bridle-road across the mountains to a branch of the Hardanger Fjord. They demanded only twelve skillings (ten cents) for the row of threemiles, and then posted off to a neighbouring farmhouse to engage horsesfor us. There was a neat white dwelling on the hill, which we took to be theparsonage, but which proved to be the residence of an army captain onleave, whom we found sitting in the door, cleaning his gun, as weapproached. He courteously ushered us into the house, and made hisappearance soon afterwards in a clean shirt, followed by his wife, withwine and cakes upon a tray. I found him to be a man of more thanordinary intelligence, and of an earnest and reflective turn of mind, rare in men of his profession. He spoke chiefly of the passion foremigration which now possesses the Norwegian farmers, considering it notrendered necessary by their actual condition, but rather one of thosecontagions which spread through communities and nations, overcomingalike prudence and prejudice. He deplored it as retarding thedevelopment of Norway. Personal interest, however, is everywherestronger than patriotism, and I see no signs of the emigrationdecreasing for some years to come. After waiting a considerable time, we obtained two horses and astrapping farmer's son for guide. The fellow was delighted to find outwhere we came from, and was continually shouting to the people in thefields: "Here these are Americans: they were born there!" whereat thepeople stared, saluted, and then stared again. He shouldered our packsand marched beside the horses with the greatest ease. "You are strong, "I remarked. "Yes, " he replied, "I am a strong Normand, " making hispatriotism an excuse for his personal pride. We had a terribly toughpull up the mountain, through fine woods, to the summit level of thefjeld. The view backwards, over the lake, was enchanting, and welingered long on the steep, loth to lose it. Turning again, a desolatelake lay before us, heathery swells of the bleak table-land and distantpeaks, touched with snow. Once upon the broad, level summit of aNorwegian fjeld, one would never guess what lovely valleys lie underthose misty breaks which separate its immense lobes--what gashes of lifeand beauty penetrate its stony heart. There are, in fact, two Norways:one above--a series of detached, irregular masses, bleak, snowy, wind-swept and heather-grown, inhabited by herdsmen and hunters: and onebelow--a ramification of narrow veins of land and water, with fields andforests, highways and villages. So, when we had traversed the upper land for several miles, we came to abrink overlooking another branch of the lower land, and descendedthrough thick woods to the farms of Ulvik, on the Eyfjord, an arm of theHardanger. The shores were gloriously beautiful; slopes of dazzling turfinclosed the bright blue water, and clumps of oak, ash, and linden, inpark-like groups, studded the fields. Low red farmhouses, each with itshollow square of stables and granaries, dotted the hill-sides, and thepeople, male and female, were everywhere out reaping the ripe barley andpiling it, pillar-wise, upon tall stakes. Owing to this circumstance wewere obliged to wait some time for oarsmen. There was no milk to be had, nor indeed anything to eat, notwithstanding the signs of plenty on allsides. My friend, wandering from house to house, at last discovered anold man, who brought him a bowl of mead in exchange for a cigar. Latein the afternoon two men came, put us into a shabby and leaky boat, andpulled away slowly for Vik, ten miles distant. The fjord was shut in by lofty and abrupt mountains, often interruptedby deep lateral gorges. This is the general character of the HardangerFjord, a broad winding sheet of water, with many arms, but whose extentis diminished to the eye by the grandeur of its shores. Nothing can bewilder or more desolate than this scenery, especially at the junction ofthe two branches, where all signs of habitation are shut out of sight, and one is surrounded by mighty precipices of dark-red rock, vanishingaway to the eastward in a gloomy defile. It was three hours and a halfbefore we reached Vik, at the head of a bay on the southern side. Here, however, some English fishermen were quartered and we made sure of asupper. The landlord, of course, received their superfluous salmon, andthey were not the men to spare a potato-field, so both were forthcoming, and in the satisfaction of appeased hunger, we were willing to indorsethe opinion of a former English traveller in the guest's book: "Thisplace seems to me a paradise, although very probably it is not one. " Theluxury of fishing, which I never could understand, has taught theNorwegians to regard travellers as their proper prey. Why should a man, they think, pay 50_l. _ for the privilege of catching fish, which hegives away as soon as caught, unless he don't know how else to get ridof his money? Were it not that fishing in Norway includes pure air, hardfare, and healthy exercise, I should agree with somebody's definition ofangling, "a rod with a fly at one end and a fool at the other;" but itis all that, and besides furnished us with a good meal more than once;wherefore I respect it. We were now but eight miles from the Vöring-Foss, and set out betimesthe next morning, taking with us a bottle of red wine, some dry bread, and Peder Halstensen as guide. I mention Peder particularly, because heis the only jolly, lively, wide-awake, open-hearted Norwegian I haveever seen. As rollicking as a Neapolitan, as chatty as an Andalusian, and as frank as a Tyrolese, he formed a remarkable contrast to the menwith whom we had hitherto come in contact. He had long black hair, wicked black eyes, and a mouth which laughed even when his face was atrest. Add a capital tenor voice, a lithe, active frame, and somethingirresistibly odd and droll in his motions, and you have his principalpoints. We walked across the birch-wooded isthmus behind Vik to theEyfjordsvand, a lake about three miles long, which completely cuts offthe further valley, the mountains on either side falling to it in sheerprecipices 1000 feet high. We embarked in a crazy, leaky boat, Peder pulling vigorously andsinging. "_Frie dig ved lifvet_" ("Life let us cherish"), with all thecontentment on his face which is expressed in Mozart's immortal melody. "Peder, " said I, "do you know the national song of Norway?" "I shouldthink so, " was his answer, stopping short in the midst of a wildfjeld-song, clearing his throat, and singing with a fervour andenthusiasm which rang wide over the lonely lake:-- "Minstrel, awaken the harp from its slumbers, Strike for old Norway, the land of the free! High and heroic, in soul-stirring numbers, Clime of our fathers, we strike it for thee! Old recollections awake our affections-- Hallow the name of the land of our birth; Each heart beats its loudest, each cheek glows its proudest, For Norway the ancient, the throne of the earth!"[D] "Dost thou know, " said he, becoming more familiar in his address, "thata lawyer (by the name of Bjerregaard) wrote this song, and the Storthingat Christiania gave him a hundred specie dollars for it. That was nottoo much, was it?" "No, " said I, "five hundred dollars would have beenlittle enough for such a song. " "Yes, yes, that it would, " was hisearnest assent; and as I happened at that moment to ask whether we couldsee the peaks of the Halling Jökeln, he commenced a soeter-song of lifeon the lofty fjeld--a song of snow, and free winds, and blue sky. Bythis time we had reached the other end of the lake, where, in the midstof a little valley of rich alluvial soil, covered with patches of barleyand potatoes, stood the hamlet of Sæbö. Here Peder procured a horse formy friend, and we entered the mouth of a sublime gorge which opened tothe eastward--a mere split in the mighty ramparts of theHardanger-Fjeld. Peder was continually shouting to the people in thefields: "Look here! These are Americans, these two, and the other one isa German! This one talks Norsk, and the others don't. " We ascended the defile by a rough footpath, at first through alderthickets, but afterwards over immense masses of rocky ruin, which hadtumbled from the crags far above, and almost blocked up the valley. Forsilence, desolation, and awful grandeur, this defile equals any of theAlpine passes. In the spring, when the rocks, split by wedges of ice, disengage themselves from the summit, and thunder down upon the piledwrecks of ages, it must be terribly sublime. A bridge, consisting of twologs spanned across abutments of loose stones, and vibrating stronglyunder our tread, took us over the torrent. Our road, for some distancewas now a mere staircase, scrambling up, down, under, over, and betweenthe chaos of sundered rocks. A little further, and the defile shut inaltogether, forming a _cul de sac_ of apparently perpendicular walls, from 2000 to 3000 feet high. "How are we to get out of this?" I askedPeder. "Yonder, " said he, pointing to the inaccessible summit in front. "But where does the stream come from?" "That you will soon see. " Lo! allat once a clean split from top to bottom disclosed itself in the wall onour left, and in passing its mouth we had a glimpse up the monstrouschasm, whose dark-blue sides, falling sheer 3000 feet, vanished at thebottom in eternal gloom and spray. Crossing the stream again, we commenced ascending over the débris ofstony avalanches, the path becoming steeper and steeper, until thefar-off summit almost hung over our heads. It was now a zigzag ladder, roughly thrown together, but very firm. The red mare which my friendrode climbed it like a cat, never hesitating, even at an angle of 50°, and never making a false step. The performance of this noble animal wasalmost incredible. I should never have believed a horse capable of suchgymnastics, had I not seen it with my own eyes, had I not mounted hermyself at the most difficult points, in order to test her powers. You, who have climbed the _Mayenwand_, in going from the glacier of the Rhoneto the Grimsel, imagine a slant higher, steeper, and composed of looserocks, and you will have an exact picture of our ascent. We climbedwell; and yet it took us just an hour and a half to reach the summit. We were now on the great plateau of the Hardanger Fjeld, 2500 feet abovethe sea. A wild region lay before us--great swells, covered withheather, sweeping into the distance and given up to solitude andsilence. A few isolated peaks, streaked with snow, rose from this upperlevel; and a deep break on our left revealed the top of the chasmthrough which the torrent made its way. At its extremity, a mile or moredistant, rose a light cloud of vapour, seeming close at hand in the thinmountain air. The thick, spongy soil, not more than two feet deep, restson a solid bed of rock, --the entire Hardanger Fjeld, in fact, is but asingle rock, --and is therefore always swampy. Whortleberries wereabundant, as well as the multeberry (_Rubus chamoemorus_), which I havefound growing in Newfoundland; and Peder, running off on the hunt ofthem, was continually leading us astray. But at last, we approached thewreath of whirling spray, and heard the hollow roar of the Vöring-Foss. The great chasm yawned before us; another step, and we stood on thebrink. I seized the branch of a tough pine sapling as a support andleaned over. My head did not swim; the height was too great for that, the impression too grand and wonderful. The shelf of rock on which Istood projected far out over a gulf 1200 feet deep, whose opposite siderose in one great escarpment from the bottom to a height of 800 feetabove my head. On this black wall, wet with eternal spray, was painted asplendid rainbow, forming two thirds of a circle before it melted intothe gloom below. A little stream fell in one long thread of silver fromthe very summit, like a plumb-line dropped to measure the 2000 feet. Onmy right hand the river, coming down from the level of the fjeld in atorn, twisted, and boiling mass, reached the brink of the gulf at apoint about 400 feet below me, whence it fell in a single sheet to thebottom, a depth of between 800 and 900 feet. Could one view it from below, this fall would present one of thegrandest spectacles in the world. In height, volume of water, andsublime surroundings it has no equal. The spectator, however, looks downupon it from a great height above its brink, whence it is soforeshortened that he can only guess its majesty and beauty. By lyingupon your belly and thrusting your head out beyond the roots of thepines, you can safely peer into the dread abyss, and watch, through thevortex of whirling spray in its tortured womb, the starry coruscationswhich radiate from the bottom of the fall, like rockets of waterincessantly exploding. But this view, sublime as it is, only whets yourdesire to stand below, and see the river, with its sprayey crest shiningagainst the sky, make but one leap from heaven to hell. Some personshave succeeded, by entering the chasm at its mouth in the valley below, in getting far enough to see a portion of the fall, the remainder beingconcealed by a projecting rock; and the time will come, no doubt, whensomebody will have energy enough to carry a path to its very foot. Ienvy the travellers who will then visit the Vöring-Foss. A short distance above the fall there are a few cabins inhabited bysoeters, or herdsmen, whither we repaired to procure some fresh milk. The house was rude and dirty; but the people received us in a friendlymanner. The powerful housewife laid aside her hay-rake, and brought usmilk which was actually sweet (a rare thing in Norway, ) dirty, but notrancid butter, and tolerable cheese. When my friend asked for water, shedipped a pailful from a neighbouring stream, thick with decayed moss andvegetable mould, and handed it to him. He was nice enough to pick out arotten root before drinking, which one of the children snatched up fromthe floor and ate. Yet these people did not appear to be in want; theywere healthy, cheerful, and contented; and their filthy manner of livingwas the result of sheer indolence and slovenliness. There was nothing toprevent them from being neat and comfortable, even with their scantymeans; but the good gifts of God are always spoiled and wasted in dirtyhands. When we opened our bottle of wine, an exquisite aroma diffused itselfthrough the room--a mingled smell of vine blossoms and ripe grapes. Howcould the coarse vintage sent to the North, watered and chemicallydoctored as it is, produce such a miracle? We tasted--superb old ChateauLatour, from the sunniest hill of Bordeaux! By whatever accident it hadwandered thither, it did not fall into unappreciative hands. Even BritaHalstendsdatter Höl, the strong housewife, smacked her lips over theglass which she drank after sitting to me for her portrait. When the sketch was completed, we filled the empty bottle with milk andset out on our return. FOOTNOTES: [D] Latham's translation. XXXI. SKETCHES FROM THE BERGENSTIFT. Our return from the Vöring-Foss to the hamlet of Sæbö was accomplishedwithout accident or particular incident. As we were crossing theEyfjordsvand, the stillness of the savage glen, yet more profound in thedusk of evening, was broken by the sudden thunder of a slide in somevalley to the eastward. Peder stopped in the midst of "_Frie dig vedlifvet_" and listened. "Ho!" said he, "the spring is the time when therocks come down, but that sounds like a big fellow, too. " Peder was notso lively on the way back, not because he was fatigued, for in showingus how they danced on the fjeld, he flung himself into the air in amarvellous manner, and turned over twice before coming down, but partlybecause he had broken our bottle of milk, and partly because there wassomething on his mind. I waited patiently, knowing that it would comeout at last, as indeed it did. "You see, " said he, hesitatingly, "sometravellers give a drink-money to the guide. It isn't an obligation, youknow; but then some give it. Now, if you should choose to give meanything, don't pay it to the landlord for me, because then I won't getit. You are not bound to do so you know but _some_ travellers do it, and I don't know but you might also. Now, if you should, give itdirectly to me, and then I will have it. " When we reached Vik, we calledPeder aside and gave him three marks. "Oh, you must pay your bill to thelandlord, " said he. "But that is your drink-money, " I explained. "That?"he exclaimed; "it is not possible! _Frie dig ved lifvet_, " &c. , and sohe sang, cut a pigeon-wing or two, and proceeded to knot and double knotthe money in a corner of his pocket-handkerchief. "Come and take a swim!" said Peder, reappearing. "I can swim ever sinceI fell into the water. I tumbled off the pier, you must know, and down Iwent. Everything became black before my eyes; and I thought to myself, 'Peder, this is the end of you. ' But I kicked and splashed nevertheless, until my eyes opened again, wide enough to see where a rope was. Well, after I found I could fall into the water without drowning, I was notafraid to swim. " In fact, Peder now swam very well, and floundered aboutwith great satisfaction in the ice cold water. A single plunge was all Icould endure. After supper the landlady came in to talk to me aboutAmerica. She had a son in California, and a daughter in Wisconsin, andshowed me their daguerreotypes and some bits of gold with great pride. She was a stout, kindly, motherly body, and paid especial attention toour wants on finding where we came from. Indeed we were treated in themost friendly manner by these good people, and had no reason to complainof our reckoning on leaving. This experience confirms me in the beliefthat honesty and simplicity may still be characteristics of theNorwegians in the more remote parts of the country. We bade a cordial farewell to Vik next morning, and set off on ourreturn, in splendid sunshine. Peder was in the boat, rejoiced to be withus again; and we had no sooner gotten under way, than he began singing, "_Frie dig ved lifvet_. " It was an intensely hot day, and the shores ofUlvik were perfectly dazzling. The turf had a silken gloss; the treesstood darkly and richly green, and the water was purest sapphire. "It isa beautiful bay, is it not?" said the farmer who furnished us withhorses, after we had left the boat and were slowly climbing the fjeld. Ithought I had never seen a finer; but when heaven and earth are inentire harmony, when form, colour and atmosphere accord like some richswell of music, whatever one sees is perfect. Hence I shall not say howbeautiful the bay of Ulvik was to me, since under other aspects thedescription would not be true. The farmer's little daughter, however, who came along to take back oneof the horses, would have been a pleasant apparition at any time and inany season. She wore her Sunday dress, consisting of a scarlet boddiceover a white chemise, green petticoat, and white apron, while hershining flaxen hair was plaited into one long braid with narrow stripsof crimson and yellow cloth and then twisted like a garland around herhead. She was not more than twelve or thirteen years old, but tall, straight as a young pine, and beautifully formed, with the promise ofearly maidenhood in the gentle swell of her bosom. Her complexion waslovely--pink, brightened with sunburnt gold, --and her eyes like theblossoms of the forget-me-not, in hue. In watching her firm yet gracefultread, as she easily kept pace with the horse, I could not realise thatin a few more years she would probably be no more graceful and beautifulthan the women at work in the fields--coarse, clumsy shapes, with frowzyhair, leathery faces, and enormous hanging breasts. In the Bergenstift, however, one sometimes sees a pretty face; and thenatural grace of the form is not always lost. About Vossevangen, forinstance, the farmers' daughters are often quite handsome; but beauty, either male or female, is in Norway the rarest apparition. The grown-upwomen, especially after marriage, are in general remarkably plain. Except among some of the native tribes of Africa, I have nowhere seensuch overgrown, loose, pendant breasts as among them. This is not thecase in Sweden, where, if there are few beauties, there are at least agreat many passable faces. There are marked differences in the blood ofthe two nations; and the greater variety of feature and complexion inNorway seems to indicate a less complete fusion of the original stocks. We were rowed across the Graven Lake by an old farmer, who wore thecostume of the last century, --a red coat, _à la_ Frederic the Great, long waistcoat, and white knee-breeches. He demanded double the lawfulfare, which, indeed, was shamefully small; and we paid him withoutdemur. At Vasenden we found our carrioles and harness in good condition, nothing having been abstracted except a ball of twine. Horses were inwaiting, apparently belonging to some well-to-do farmer; for the boyswere well dressed, and took especial care of them. We reached themerchant's comfortable residence at Vossevangen before sunset, and madeamends on his sumptuous fare for the privations of the past three days. We now resumed the main road between Christiania and Bergen. The samecloudless days continued to dawn upon us. For one summer, Norway hadchanged climates with Spain. Our oil-cloths were burnt up and cracked bythe heat, our clothes covered with dust, and our faces became as brownas those of Bedouins. For a week we had not a cloud in the sky; thesuperbly clear days belied the old saying of "weather-breeders. " Our road, on leaving Vossevangen, led through pine-forests, followingthe course of a stream up a wild valley, enclosed by lofty mountains. Some lovely cataracts fell from the steep on our left; but this is theland of cataracts and there is many a one, not even distinguished by aname, which would be renowned in Switzerland. I asked my postillion thename of the stream beside us. "Oh, " said he, "it has none; it is not bigenough!" He wanted to take us all the way through to Gudvangen, twenty-eight miles, on our paying double fare, predicting that we wouldbe obliged to wait three hours for fresh horses at each intermediatestation. He waited some time at Tvinde, the first station, in the hopethat we would yield, but departed suddenly in a rage on seeing that thehorses were already coming. At this place, a stout young fellow, who hadevidently been asleep, came out of the house and stood in the doorstaring at us with open mouth for a full hour. The postmaster sat on thestep and did likewise. It was the height of harvest-time, and theweather favourable almost to a miracle; yet most of the harvesters layupon their backs under the trees as we passed. The women appeared to domost of the out-door, as well as the in-door work. They are certainlyfar more industrious than the men, who, judging from what I saw of them, are downright indolent Evidences of slow, patient, plodding toil, onesees truly; but active industry, thrift, and honest ambition, nowhere. The scenery increased in wildness and roughness as we proceeded. Thesummit of Hvitnaset (White-nose) lifted its pinnacles of grey rock overthe brow of the mountains on the north, and in front, pale, blue-greypeaks, 5000 feet high, appeared on either hand. The next station was avillage of huts on the side of a hill. Everybody was in the fieldsexcept one woman, who remained to take charge of the station. She was astupid creature, but had a proper sense of her duty; for she started atfull speed to order horses, and we afterwards found that she must haverun full three English miles in the space of half an hour. Theemigration to America from this part of Bergenstift has been very great, and the people exhibited much curiosity to see and speak with us. The scenery became at the same time more barren and more magnificent, aswe approached the last station, Stalheim, which is a miserable littlevillage at the head of the famous Naerödal. Our farmer-postillion wishedto take us on to Gudvangen with the same horses, urging the same reasonsas the former one. It would have been better if we had accepted hisproposal; but our previous experience had made us mistrustful. The manspoke truth, however; hour after hour passed away, and the horses camenot. A few miserable people collected about us, and begged money. Isketched the oldest, ugliest and dirtiest of them, as a specimen, butregretted it afterwards, as his gratitude on receiving a trifle forsitting, obliged me to give him my hand. Hereupon another old fellow, not quite so hideous, wanted to be taken also. "Lars, " said a woman tothe former, "are you not ashamed to have so ugly a face as yours go toAmerica?" "Oh, " said he, "it does not look so ugly in the book. " Hisdelight on getting the money created some amusement. "Indeed, " heprotested, "I am poor, and want it; and you need not laugh. " The last gush of sunset was brightening the tops of the savage fjeldwhen the horses arrived. We had waited two hours and three quarters andI therefore wrote a complaint in the post-book in my best Norsk. Fromthe top of a hill beyond the village, we looked down into the Naerödal. We stood on the brink of a tremendous wall about a thousand feet abovethe valley. On one side, the stream we had been following fell in asingle cascade 400 feet; on the other, a second stream, issuing fromsome unseen defile, flung its several ribbons of foam from nearly anequal height. The valley, or rather gorge, disappeared in front betweenmountains of sheer rock, which rose to the height of 3000 feet. Theroad--a splendid specimen of engineering--was doubled back and fortharound the edge of a spur projecting from the wall on which we stood, and so descended to the bottom. Once below, our carrioles rolled rapidlydown the gorge, which was already dusky with twilight. The stream, ofthe most exquisite translucent azure-green colour, rolled between us;and the mountain crests towered so far above, that our necks ached as welooked upwards. I have seen but one valley which in depth and sublimitycan equal the Naerödal--the pass of the Taurus, in Asia Minor, leadingfrom Cappadocia into Cilicia. In many places the precipices were 2000feet in perpendicular height; and the streams of the upper fjeld, falling from the summits, lost themselves in evanescent water-dustbefore they reached the bottom. The bed of the valley was heaped withfragments of rock; which are loosed from above with every returningspring. It was quite dark before we reached Gudvangen, thoroughly tired and ashungry as wolves. My postillion, on hearing me complain, pulled a pieceof dry mutton out of his pocket and gave it to me. He was very anxiousto learn whether brandy and tobacco were as dear in America as inNorway; if so, he did not wish to emigrate. A stout girl had charge ofBraisted's horse; the female postillions always fell to his lot. Shecomplained of hard work and poor pay, and would emigrate if she had themoney. At Gudvangen we had a boat journey of thirty-five miles beforeus, and therefore engaged two boats with eight oarsmen for the morrow. The people tried hard to make us take more, but we had more than thenumber actually required by law, and, as it turned out, quite as many aswere necessary. Travellers generally supply themselves with brandy forthe use of their boatmen, from an idea that they will be stubborn anddilatory without it. We did so in no single instance; yet our men werealways steady and cheerful. We shipped our carrioles and sent them off in the larger boat, delayingour own departure until we had fortified ourselves with a goodbreakfast, and laid in some hard bread and pork omelette, for the day. The Gudvangen Fjord, down which we now glided over the glassy water, isa narrow mountain avenue of glorious scenery. The unseen plateaus of theBlaa and Graa Fjelds, on either hand, spilled their streams overprecipices from 1000 to 2000 feet in height, above whose cornices shotthe pointed summits of bare grey rock, wreathed in shifting clouds, 4000feet above the sea. Pine-trees feathered the less abrupt steeps, withpatches of dazzling turf here and there; and wherever a gentler slopecould be found in the coves, stood cottages surrounded by potato-fieldsand ripe barley stacked on poles. Not a breath of air rippled the darkwater, which was a perfect mirror to the mountains and the strip of skybetween them, while broad sheets of morning sunshine, streaming down thebreaks in the line of precipices, interrupted with patches of fierycolour the deep, rich, transparent gloom of the shadows. It was anenchanted voyage until we reached the mouth of the Aurlands Fjord, divided from that of Gudvangen by a single rocky buttress 1000 feethigh. Beyond this point the watery channel is much broader, and theshores diminish in grandeur as they approach the Sogne Fjord, of whichthis is but a lateral branch. I was a little disappointed in the scenery of Sogne Fjord, The mountainswhich enclose it are masses of sterile rock, neither lofty nor boldenough in their forms to make impression, after the unrivalled scenerythrough which we had passed. The point of Vangnæs, a short distance tothe westward, is the "Framnæs" of Frithiof's Saga, and I thereforelooked towards it with some interest, for the sake of that hero and hisnorthern lily, Ingeborg. There are many bauta-stones still standing onthe shore, but one who is familiar with Tegner's poem must not expectto find his descriptions verified, either in scenery or tradition. Onturning eastward, around the point of Fronningen, we were surprised bythe sudden appearance of two handsome houses, with orchards and gardens, on the sunny side of the bank. The vegetation, protected in some degreefrom the sea-winds, was wonderfully rich and luxuriant. There were nowoccasional pine-woods on the southern shore, but the general aspect ofthis fjord is bleak and desolate. In the heat and breathless silence ofnoonday, the water was like solid crystal. A faint line, as if drawnwith a pencil along the bases of the opposite mountains, divided themfrom the equally perfect and palpable mountains inverted below them. Inthe shadows near us, it was quite impossible to detect the boundarybetween the substance and its counterpart. In the afternoon we passedthe mouth of the northern arms of the fjord, which strike into the heartof the wildest and grandest region of Norway; the valley of Justedal, with its tremendous glaciers, the snowy teeth of the Hurunger, and thecrowning peaks of the Skagtolstind. Our course lay down the other arm, to Lærdalsören, at the head of the fjord. By five o'clock it came insight, at the mouth of a valley opening through the barren flanks on theFille Fjeld. We landed, after a voyage of ten hours, and found welcomesigns of civilisation in a neat but exorbitant inn. Our boatmen, with the exception of stopping half an hour for breakfast, had pulled steadily the whole time. We had no cause to be dissatisfiedwith them, while they were delighted with the moderate gratuity we gavethem. They were tough, well-made fellows, possessing a considerableamount of endurance, but less actual strength than one would suspect. Braisted, who occasionally tried his hand at an oar, could pull themaround with the greatest ease. English travellers whom I have met informme that in almost every trial they find themselves stronger than theNorwegians. This is probably to be accounted for by their insufficientnourishment. Sour milk and oaten bread never yet fed an athlete. Theproportions of their bodies would admit of fine muscular development;and if they cannot do what their Viking ancestors once did, it isbecause they no longer live upon the spoils of other lands, as they. CHAPTER XXXII. HALLINGDAL--THE COUNTRY-PEOPLE OF NORWAY. There are two roads from Lærdalsören to Christiania, the eastern onepassing through the districts of Valders and Hadeland, by way of theLittle Miösen Lake and the Randsfjord, while the western, after crossingthe Fille Fjeld, descends the long Hallingdal to Ringerike. In point ofscenery there is little difference between them; but as we intendedvisiting the province of Tellemark, in Southern Norway, we chose thelatter. The valley of the Fille Fjeld, which we entered on leavingLærdalsören, is enclosed by wild, barren mountains, more isolated andirregular in their forms than the Hardanger and Dovre Fjelds. There wereoccasional precipices and dancing waterfalls, but in general the sametameness and monotony we had found on the Sogne Fjord. Down the bed ofthe valley flowed a large rapid stream, clear as crystal, and of abeautiful beryl tint. The cultivation was scanty; and the potato fields, utterly ruined by disease, tainted the air with sickening effluvia. Theoccasional forests on the hill-sides were of fir and birch, whilepoplar, ash, and linden grew in the valley. The only fruit-trees I sawwere some sour red cherries. But in the splendour of the day, this unfriendly valley shone like adell of the Apennines. Not a cloud disturbed the serenity of the sky;the brown grass and yellow moss on the mountains were painted with sunnygold, and the gloss and sparkle of the foliage equalled that of theItalian ilex and laurel. On the second stage a new and superb roadcarried us through the rugged defile of Saltenaaset. This pass isevidently the effect of some mighty avalanche thousands of ages ago. Thevalley is blocked up by tremendous masses of rock, hurled one upon theother in the wildest confusion, while the shattered peaks from whichthey fell still tower far above. Threading this chaos in the shadow ofthe rocks, we looked across the glen upon a braided chain of foam, twisted together at the end into a long white cascade, which droppedinto the gulf below. In another place, a rainbow meteor suddenly flashedacross the face of a dark crag, betraying the dusty spray of a fall, else invisible. On the third stage the road, after mounting a difficult steep, descendedinto the valley of Borgund, in which stands most probably the mostancient church in Norway. It is a singular, fantastic structure, bristling with spiky spires and covered with a scale armour of blackpitched shingles. It is certainly of no more recent date than thetwelfth century, and possibly of the close of the eleventh. Thearchitecture shows the Byzantine style in the rounded choir and thearched galleries along the sides, the Gothic in the windows and pointedgables, and the horned ornaments on the roof suggest the pagan templesof the ante-Christian period. A more grotesque affair could hardly befound in Christendom; it could only be matched among the monstrositiesof Chinese art. With the exception of the church of Hitterdal, inTellemark, a building of similar date, this is the best preserved of thefew antiquities of Norway. The entire absence of feudal castles is athing to be noticed. Serfdom never existed here, and one result of thiscircumstance, perhaps, is the ease with which institutions of a purelyrepublican stamp have been introduced. Our road still proceeded up the bottom of a rough barren valley, crossing stony headlands on either side. At the station of Haug ourcourse turned to the south-east, climbing a slope leading to the plateauof the Fille Fjeld--a severe pull for our horses in the intense heat. The birch woods gradually diminished in size until they ceasedaltogether, and the naked plain stretched before us. In this upper landthe air was delicious and inspiring. We were more than 3000 feet abovethe sea, but the summits to the right and left, with their soft gleamsof pale gray, lilac and purple hues in the sunshine, and pure blue inshadow, rose to the height of 6000. The heat of the previous ten dayshad stripped them bare of snow, and the landscape was drear andmonotonous. The summits of the Norwegian Fjelds have only the charm ofwildness and bleakness. I doubt whether any mountains of equal heightexhibit less grandeur in their upper regions. The most imposing featuresof Norwegian scenery are its deep valleys, its tremendous gorges withtheir cataracts, flung like banners from steeps which seem to leanagainst the very sky, and, most of all, its winding, labyrinthinefjords--valleys of the sea, in which the phenomena of the valleys of theland are repeated. I found no scenery in the Bergenstift of so originaland impressive a character as that of the Lofoden Isles. The day was Sunday, and we, of course, expect to see some evidence of itin the appearance of the people. Yet, during the whole day, we found butone clean person--the hostess of an inn on the summit of Fille Fjeld, where we stopped to bait our horses. She was a young fresh-faced woman, in the first year of her wifehood, and her snowy chemise and tidypetticoat made her shine like a star among the dirty and frowzycreatures in the kitchen. I should not forget a boy, who was washing hisface in a brook as we passed; but he was young, and didn't know anybetter. Otherwise the people lounged about the houses, or sat on therocks in the sun, filthy, and something else, to judge from certainsigns. At Haug, forgetting that it was a fast station, where there is no_tilsigelse_ (money for ordering horses) to be paid, I handed the usualsum to the landlady, saying: "This is for _tilsigelse_. " "It is quiteright, " said she, pocketing the coin. Skirting an azure lake, we crossed the highest part of the pass, nearlyfour thousand feet above the sea, and descended a naked valley to theinn of Bjöberg. The landlord received us very cordially; and as the innpromised tolerable accommodation, he easily persuaded us to stop therefor the night. His wife wore a frightful costume, which we afterwardsfound to prevail throughout all Hemsedal and Hallingdal. It consistedsimply of a band across the shoulders, above the breasts, passing aroundthe arms and over the back of the neck, with an immense baggy, danglingskirt hanging therefrom to the ancles. Whether she was fat or lean, straight or crooked, symmetrical or deformed, it was impossible todiscern, except when the wind blew. The only thing to be said in favourof such a costume is, that it does not impede the development andexpansion of the body in any direction. Hence I would strongly recommendits adoption to the advocates of reform in feminine dress at home. Thereis certainly none of that weight upon the hips, of which they complainin the fashionable costume. It is far more baggy, loose, and hideousthan the Bloomer, with the additional advantage of making all ages andstyles of beauty equally repulsive, while on the score of health andconvenience, there is still less to be said against it. Do not stop athalf-way measures, oh, fair reformers! It seems incredible that, in a pastoral country like Norway, it shouldbe almost impossible to procure sweet milk and good butter. The cattleare of good quality, there is no better grass in the world; and the onlyexplanation of the fact is to be found in the general want ofcleanliness, especially among the inhabitants of the mountain districts, which are devoted to pasturage alone. Knowing this, one wonders the lessto see no measures taken for a supply of water in the richergrain-growing valleys, where it is so easily procurable. At Bjöberg, forinstance, there was a stream of delicious water flowing down the hill, close beside the inn, and four bored pine-trunks would have brought itto the very door; but, instead of that, the landlady whirled off to thestream in her revolving dress, to wash the dishes, or to bring us half apint to wash ourselves. We found water much more abundant the previouswinter in Swedish Lapland. Leaving Bjöberg betimes, we drove rapidly down Hemsedal, enjoying thepure delicious airs of the upper fjeld. The scenery was bleak and grey;and even the soft pencil of the morning sun failed to impart any charmto it, except the nameless fascination of utter solitude and silence. The valley descends so gradually that we had driven two Norsk milesbefore the fir-forests in its bed began to creep up the mountain-sides. During the second stage we passed the remarkable peak of Saaten, on theopposite side of the valley--the end or cape of a long projecting ridge, terminating in a scarped cliff, from the very summit of which fell acascade from three to four hundred feet in height. Where the water camefrom, it was impossible to guess, unless there were a large deposit ofsnow in the rear; for the mountains fell away behind Saaten, and thejagged, cleft headland rose alone above the valley. It was a strange andfantastic feature of the landscape, and, to me, a new form in therepertory of mountain aspects. We now drove, through fir-woods balmy with warm resinous odours, toEkre, where we had ordered breakfast by _förbud_. The morning air hadgiven us a healthy appetite; but our spirits sank when the only personat the station, a stupid girl of twenty, dressed in the same bulging, hideous sack, informed us that nothing was to be had. After somepersuasion she promised us coffee, cheese, and bread, which came in duetime; but with the best will we found it impossible to eat anything. Thebutter was rather black than yellow, the cheese as detestable to thetaste as to the smell, the bread made apparently of saw-dust, with aslight mixture of oat-bran, and the coffee muddy dregs, with some sourcream in a cup, and sugar-candy which appeared to have been sucked andthen dropped in the ashes. The original colour of the girl's hands wasbarely to be distinguished through their coating of dirt; and all of us, tough old travellers as we were, sickened at the sight of her. I verilybelieve that the poorer classes of the Norwegians are the filthiestpeople in Europe. They are even worse than the Lapps, for their habitsof life allow them to be clean. After passing Ekre, our view opened down the valley, over a wild stretchof wooded hills, to the blue mountain folds of the Hallingdal, whichcrosses the Hemsedal almost at right angles, and receives its tributarywaters. The forms of the mountains are here more gradual; and thosegrand sweeps and breaks which constitute the peculiar charms of thescenery of the Bergenstift are met with no longer. We had a hot ride tothe next station, where we were obliged to wait nearly an hour in thekitchen, our _förbud_ not having been forwarded from the former stationas soon as the law allowed us to expect. A strapping boy of eighteenacted as station master. His trowsers reached considerably above hisshoulder blades, leaving barely room for a waistcoat, six inches long, to be buttoned over his collar bone. The characteristic costumes ofNorway are more quaint and picturesque in the published illustrationsthan in the reality, particularly those of Hemsedal. My postillion tothis station was a communicative fellow, and gave me some informationabout the value of labour. A harvest-hand gets from one mark (twenty-onecents) to one and a half daily, with food, or two marks without. Mostwork is paid by the job; a strong lumber-man may make two and a halfmarks when the days are long, at six skillings (five cents) a tree--aplowman two marks. In the winter the usual wages of labourers are twomarks a week, with board. Shoemakers, tailors, and other mechanicsaverage about the same daily. When one considers the scarcity of goodfood, and the high price of all luxuries, especially tobacco and brandy, it does not seem strange that the emigration fever should be soprevalent. The Norwegians have two traits in common with a large classof Americans--rampant patriotism and love of gain; but they cannot soeasily satisfy the latter without sacrificing the former. From the village of Göl, with its dark pretty church, we descended asteep of many hundred feet, into Hallingdal, whose broad stream flashedblue in the sunshine far below us. The mountains were now wooded totheir very summits; and over the less abrupt slopes, ripe oats andbarley-fields made yellow spots of harvest among the dark forests. Bythis time we were out of smoking material, and stopped at the house of a_landhandlare_, or country merchant, to procure a supply. A riotoussound came from the door as we approached. Six or eight men, all more orless drunk, and one woman, were inside, singing, jumping, and howlinglike a pack of Bedlamites. We bought the whole stock of tobacco, consisting of two cigars, and hastened out of the den. The last stationof ten miles was down the beautiful Hallingdal, through a country whichseemed rich by contrast with Hemsedal and the barren fjeld. Ourstopping-place was the village of Næs, which we reached in a famishedcondition, having eaten nothing all day. There were two _landhandlare_in the place, with one of whom we lodged. Here we found a few signs ofChristianity, such as gardens and decent dresses; but both of themerchant's shops swarmed with rum-drinkers. I had written, and sent off from Bjöberg, _förbud_ tickets for everystation as far as Kongsberg. By the legal regulations, the_skyds-skaffer_ is obliged to send forward such tickets as soon asreceived, the traveller paying the cost thereof on his arrival. Notwithstanding we had given our _förbud_ twelve hours' start, and hadpunctually paid the expense at every station, we overtook it at Næs. Thepostmaster came to know whether we would have it sent on by specialexpress, or wait until some traveller bound the same way would take itfor us. I ordered it to be sent immediately, astounded at such aquestion, until, making the acquaintance of a Scotchman and his wife, who had arrived in advance of us, the mystery was solved. They had spentthe night at the first station beyond Bjöberg, where our _förbud_tickets were given to them, with the request that they would deliverthem. They had punctually done so as far as Næs, where the people hadendeavoured to prevent them from stopping for the night, insisting thatthey were bound to go on and carry the _förbud_. The cool impudence ofthis transaction reached the sublime. At every station that day, pay hadbeen taken for service unperformed, and it was more than once demandedtwice over. We trusted the repeated assurance of the postmaster at Næs, that ourtickets had been forwarded at once, and paid him accordingly. But at thefirst station next morning we found that he had not done so; and thisinterlinked chain of swindling lasted the whole day. We were obliged towait an hour or two at every post, to pay for messengers who probablynever went, and then to resist a demand for payment at the other end ofthe station. What redress was there? We might indeed have written acomplaint in imperfect Norsk, which would be read by an inspector amonth afterwards; or perhaps it would be crossed out as soon as we left, as we saw done in several cases. Unless a traveller is very well versedin the language and in the laws relating to the _skyds_ system, he hasno defence against imposition, and even in such a case, he can onlyobtain redress through delay. The system can only work equitably whenthe people are honest; and perhaps they were so when it was firstadopted. Here I must tell an unpleasant truth. There must have been somefoundation in the beginning for the wide reputation which the Norwegianshave for honest simplicity of character; but the accounts given byformer travellers are undeserved praise if applied at present. Thepeople are trading on fictitious capital. "Should I have a writtencontract?" I asked of a landlord, in relation to a man with whom I wasmaking a bargain. "Oh, no, " said he, "everybody is honest in Norway;"and the same man tried his best to cheat me. Said Braisted, "I onceheard an old sailor say, --'when a man has a reputation for honesty, watch him!'"--and there is some knowledge of human nature in the remark. Norway was a fresh field when Laing went thither opportunities forimposition were so rare, that the faculty had not been developed; hefound the people honest, and later travellers have been content withechoing his opinion. "When I first came to the country, " said an Irishgentleman who for ten years past has spent his summers there, "I wasadvised, as I did not understand the currency, to offer a handful inpayment, and let the people take what was due to them. " "Would you do itnow?" I asked. "No, indeed, " said he, "and the man who then advised me, a Norwegian merchant, now says he would not do it either. " An Englishsalmon-fisher told me very much the same thing. "I believe they arehonest in their intercourse with each other, " said he; "but they do notscruple to take advantage of travellers whenever they can. " For my ownpart, I must say that in no country of Europe, except Italy, have Iexperienced so many attempts at imposition. Another Englishman, who hasbeen farming in Norway for several years, and who employs about fortylabourers, has been obliged to procure Swedes, on account of thepeculations of native hands. I came to Norway with the popularimpression concerning the people, and would not confess myself sodisagreeably undeceived, could I suppose that my own experiences wereexceptional. I found, however, that they tallied with those of othertravellers; and the conclusion is too flagrant to be concealed. As a general rule, I have found the people honest in proportion as theyare stupid. They are quick-witted whenever the spirit of gain isaroused; and the ease with which they pick up little arts ofacquisitiveness does not suggest an integrity proof against temptation. It is but a negative virtue, rather than that stable quality rooted inthe very core of a man's nature. I may, perhaps, judge a little harshly;but when one finds the love of gain so strongly developed, so keen andgrasping, in combination with the four capital vices of theNorwegians--indolence, filth, drunkenness, and licentiousness, --thedescent to such dishonest arts as I have described is scarcely a singlestep. There are, no doubt, many districts where the people are stilluntempted by rich tourists and sportsmen, and retain the virtues onceascribed to the whole population: but that there has been a general andrapid deterioration of character cannot be denied. The statistics ofmorality, for instance, show that one child out of every ten isillegitimate; and the ratio has been steadily increasing for the pastfifty years. Would that the more intelligent classes would seriously setthemselves to work for the good of "_Gamle Norge_" instead of beingcontent with the poetical flourish of her name! The following day, from Næs to Green, was a continuation of our journeydown the Hallingdal. There was little change in the scenery, --highfir-wooded mountains on either hand, the lower slopes spotted withfarms. The houses showed some slight improvement as we advanced. Thepeople were all at work in the fields, cutting the year's satisfactoryharvest. A scorching sun blazed in a cloudless sky; the earth was bakedand dry, and suffocating clouds of dust rose from under our horses'hoofs. Most of the women in the fields, on account of the heat, hadpulled off their body-sacks, and were working in shifts made on the sameprinciple, which reached to the knees. Other garments they had none. Afew, recognising us as strangers, hastily threw on their sacks or gotbehind a barley-stack until we had passed; the others were quiteunconcerned. One, whose garment was exceedingly short, no sooner saw usthan she commenced a fjeld dance, full of astonishing leaps and whirlsto the great diversion of the other hands. "Weel done, cutty sark!" Icried; but the quotation was thrown away upon her. Green, on the Kröder Lake, which we did not reach until long after dark, was an oasis after our previous experience. Such clean, refined, friendly people, such a neat table, such excellent fare, and suchdelicious beds we had certainly never seen before. Blessed be decency!blessed be humanity! was our fervent ejaculation. And when in themorning we paid an honest reckoning and received a hearty "_lycksameresa!_" (a lucky journey!) at parting, we vowed that the place shouldalways be green in our memories. Thence to Kongsberg we had faststations and civilised people; the country was open, well settled, andcultivated, the scenery pleasant and picturesque, and, except theinsufferable heat and dust, we could complain of nothing. CHAPTER XXXIII. TELLEMARK AND THE RIUKAN FOSS. Kongsberg, where we arrived on the 26th of August, is celebrated for itsextensive silver mines, which were first opened by Christian IV in 1624, and are now worked by the Government. They are doubtless interesting tomineralogists; but we did not visit them. The guide-book says, "Theprincipal entrance to the mines is through a level nearly two Englishmiles in length; from this level you descend by thirty-eightperpendicular ladders, of the average length of five fathoms each, avery fatiguing task, and then find yourself at the bottom of the shaft, and are rewarded by the sight of the veins of native silver"--not a bitof which, after all, are you allowed to put into your pocket. Thank you!I prefer remaining above ground, and was content with having in mypossession smelted specimens of the ore, stamped with the head of OscarI. The goal of our journey was the Riukan Foss, which lies in UpperTellemark, on the south-eastern edge of the great plateau of theHardanger Fjeld. This cascade disputes with the Vöring Foss thesupremacy of the thousand waterfalls of Norway. There are several waysfrom Kongsberg thither; and in our ignorance of the country, wesuffered ourselves to be guided by the landlord of our hotel. Let notraveller follow our example! The road he recommended was almostimpassable for carrioles, and miserably supplied with horses, while thatthrough Hitterdal, by which we returned, is broad, smooth, andexcellent. We left on the morning after our arrival, taking a road whichled up the valley of the Lauven for some distance, and then struckwestward through the hills to a little station called Moen. Here, as theplace was rarely visited by travellers, the people were simple, honest, and friendly. Horses could not be had in less than two hours; and mypostillion, an intelligent fellow far gone in consumption, proposedtaking the same horse to the next station, fifteen miles further. Heaccepted my offer of increased pay; but another, who appeared to be theowner of the horses, refused, demanding more than double the usualrates. "How is it?" said I, "that you were willing to bring us to Moenfor one and a half marks, and will not take us to Bolkesjö for less thanfive?" "It was my turn, " he answered, "to furnish post-horses. I ambound by law to bring you here at the price fixed by the law; but now Ican make my own bargain, and I want a price that will leave me someprofit. " This was reasonable enough; and we finally agreed to retain twoof the horses, taking the postmaster's for a third. The region we now traversed was almost a wilderness. There weregrazing-farms in the valley, with a few fields of oats or barley; butthese soon ceased, and an interminable forest enclosed us. The road, terribly rough and stony, crossed spurs of the hills, slowly climbing toa wild summit-level, whence we caught glimpses of lakes far below us, and the blue mountain-ranges in the west, with the pyramidal peak of theGousta Fjeld crowning them. Bolkesjö, which we reached in a little morethan two hours, is a small hamlet on the western slope of the mountain, overlooking a wide tract of lake and forest. Most of the inhabitantswere away in the harvest-fields; but the _skyds-shaffer_, a tallpowerful fellow, with a grin of ineffable stupidity on his face, cameforward as we pulled in our horses on the turfy square between the rowsof magazines. "Can we get horses at once?" "Ne-e-ey!" was his drawlinganswer, accompanied with a still broader grin, as if the thing were agood joke. "How soon?" "In three hours. " "But if we pay fast prices?" Hehesitated, scratched his head, and drawled, "In a _liten stund_" (a"short time"), which may mean any time from five minutes to as manyhours. "Can we get fresh milk?" "Ne-e-ey!" "Can we get butter?""Ne-e-ey!" "What can we get?" "Nothing. " Fortunately we had foreseenthis emergency, and had brought a meal with us from Kongsberg. We took possession of the kitchen, a spacious and tolerably cleanapartment, with ponderous benches against two sides of it, and twobedsteads, as huge and ugly as those of kings, built along the third. Enormous platters of pewter, earthen and stone ware, were ranged onshelves; while a cupboard, fantastically painted, contained the smallercrockery. There was a heavy red and green cornice above the bed, uponwhich the names of the host and his wife, with the date of theirmarriage, were painted in yellow letters. The worthy couple lay so highthat several steps were necessary to enable them to reach the bed, inwhich process their eyes encountered words of admonition, painted upontriangular boards, introduced to strengthen the pillars at the head andfoot. One of these inscriptions ran, "This is my bed: here I take myrest in the night, and when morning comes I get up cheerfully and go towork;" and the other, "When thou liest down to sleep think on thy lasthour, pray that God will guard thy sleep, and be ready for thy last hourwhen it comes. " On the bottom of the cupboard was a representation oftwo individuals with chalk-white faces and inky eyes, smoking theirpipes and clinking glasses. The same fondness for decorations andinscriptions is seen in all the houses in Tellemark and a great part ofHallingdal. Some of them are thoroughly Chinese in gaudy colour andgrotesque design. In the course of an hour and a half we obtained three strong andspirited stallions, and continued our journey towards the Tind-Sö. During this stage of twelve or thirteen miles, the quality of ourcarrioles was tested in the most satisfactory manner. Up-hill and down, over stock and stone, jolted on rock and wrenched in gulley, they werewhirled at a smashing rate; but the tough ash and firmly-welded ironresisted every shock. For any other than Norwegian horses and vehicles, it would have been hazardous travelling. We were anxious to retain thesame animals for the remaining stage to Tinoset, at the foot of thelake; but the postillions refused, and a further delay of two hours wasthe consequence. It was dark when the new horses came; and ten miles offorest lay before us. We were ferried one by one across the Tind Elv, ona weak, loose raft and got our carrioles up a frightful bank on theopposite side by miraculous luck. Fortunately we struck the post-roadfrom Hitterdal at this place; for it would have been impossible to rideover such rocky by-ways as we had left behind us. A white streak was allthat was visible in the gloom of the forest. We kept in the middle ofit, not knowing whether the road went up, down, or on a level, until wehad gone over it. At last, however, the forest came to an end, and wesaw Tind Lake lying still and black in the starlight. All were in bed atTinoset; but we went into the common sleeping-room, and stirred thepeople up promiscuously until we found the housewife, who gave us theonly supper the house afforded--hard oaten bread and milk. We three thenmade the most of two small beds. In the morning we took a boat, with four oarsmen, for Mael, at the mouthof the Westfjord-dal, in which lies the Riukan Foss. There was no end toour wonderful weather. In rainy Norway the sky had for once forgottenits clouds. One after another dawned the bright Egyptian days, followedby nights soft, starry, and dewless. The wooded shores of the long TindLake were illuminated with perfect sunshine, and its mirror oftranslucent beryl broke into light waves under the northern breeze. Yet, with every advantage of sun and air, I found this lake undeserving ofits reputation for picturesque beauty. The highest peaks rise to theheight of 2000 feet, but there is nothing bold and decided in theirforms, and after the splendid fjords of the western coast the sceneryappears tame and commonplace. Our boatmen pulled well, and by noonbrought us to Hakenaes, a distance of twenty-one miles. Here we stoppedto engage horses to the Riukan Foss, as there is no post-station atMael. While the old man put off in his boat to notify the farmers whoseturn it was to supply the animals, we entered the farm-house, asubstantial two-story building. The rooms were tolerably clean and wellstocked with the clumsy, heavy furniture of the country, which is mostlymade by the farmers themselves, every man being his own carpenter, cooper, and blacksmith. There were some odd old stools, made of segmentsof the trunk of a tree, the upper part hollowed out so as to receive thebody, and form a support for the back. I have no doubt that this fashionof seat is as old as the time of the Vikings. The owner was evidently aman in tolerable circumstances, and we therefore cherished the hope ofgetting a good meal; but all that the old woman, with the best will inthe world, was able to furnish, was milk, butter, oaten bread, and anegg apiece. The upper rooms were all supplied with beds, one of whichdisplayed remarkable portraits of the Crown Prince of Denmark and hisspouse, upon the head-board. In another room was a loom of primitiveconstruction. It was nearly two hours before the old farmer returned with theinformation that the horses would be at Mael as soon as we; but we layupon the bank for some time after arriving there, watching thepostillions swim them across the mouth of the Maan Elv. Leaving theboat, which was to await our return the next day, we set off up theWestfjord-dal, towards the broad cone-like mass of the Gousta-Fjeld, whose huge bulk, 6000 feet in height, loomed grandly over the valley. The houses of Mael, clustered about its little church, were scatteredover the slope above the lake; and across the river, amid the fields ofgrass and grain, stood another village of equal size. The bed of thevalley, dotted with farms and groups of farm-houses, appeared to bethickly populated; but as a farmer's residence rarely consists of lessthan six buildings--sometimes even eight--a stranger would naturallyoverrate the number of inhabitants. The production of grain, also, ismuch less than would be supposed from the amount of land undercultivation, owing to the heads being so light. The valley of the Maan, apparently a rich and populous region, is in reality rather the reverse. In relation to its beauty, however, there can be no two opinions. Deeplysunken between the Gousta and another bold spur of the Hardanger, itsgolden harvest-fields and groves of birch, ash, and pine seem doublycharming from the contrast of the savage steeps overhanging them, atfirst scantily feathered with fir-trees, and scarred with the tracks ofcataracts and slides, then streaked only with patches of grey moss, andat last bleak and sublimely bare. The deeply-channelled cone of theGousta, with its indented summit, rose far above us, sharp and clear inthe thin ether; but its base, wrapped in forests and wet by many awaterfall--sank into the bed of blue vapour which filled the valley. There was no Arabian, nor even Byzantine blood in our horses; and ourattendants--a stout full-grown farmer and a boy of sixteen--easily keptpace with their slow rough trot. In order to reach Tinoset the next day, we had determined to push on to the Riukan Foss the same evening. Ourquarters for the night were to be in the house of the old farmer, OleTorgensen, in the village of Däl, half-way between Mael and thecataract, which we did not reach until five o'clock, when the sun wasalready resting his chin on the shoulder of the Gousta. On a turfy slopesurrounded with groves, above the pretty little church of Däl, we foundOle's _gaard_. There was no one at home except the daughter, a bloominglass of twenty, whose neat dress, and graceful, friendly deportment, after the hideous feminines of Hallingdal, in their ungirdled sacks andshifts, so charmed us that if we had been younger, more sentimental, andless experienced in such matters, I should not answer for theconsequences. She ushered us into the guests' room, which was neatnessitself, set before us a bottle of Bavarian beer and promised to have asupper ready on our return. There were still ten miles to the Riukan, and consequently no time to belost. The valley contracted, squeezing the Maan between the interlockingbases of the mountains, through which, in the course of uncountedcenturies, it had worn itself a deep groove, cut straight and clean intothe heart of the rock. The loud, perpetual roar of the vexed watersfilled the glen; the only sound except the bleating of goats clinging tothe steep pastures above us. The mountain walls on either hand were nowso high and precipitous, that the bed of the valley lay wholly inshadow; and on looking back, its further foldings were dimly seenthrough purple mist. Only the peak of the Gousta, which from this pointappeared an entire and perfect pyramid, 1500 feet in perpendicularheight above the mountain platform from which it rose, gleamed with arich bronze lustre in the setting sun. The valley was now a mereascending gorge, along the sides of which our road climbed. Before usextended a slanting shelf thrust out from the mountain, and affordingroom for a few cottages and fields; but all else was naked rock andragged pine. From one of the huts we passed, a crippled, distorted formcrawled out on its hands and knees to beg of us. It was a boy ofsixteen, struck with another and scarcely less frightful form ofleprosy. In this case, instead of hideous swellings and fungousexcrescences, the limbs gradually dry up and drop off piecemeal at thejoints. Well may the victims of both these forms of hopeless diseasecurse the hour in which they were begotten. I know of no more awfulexample of that visitation of the sins of the parents upon the children, which almost always attends confirmed drunkenness, filth, andlicentiousness. When we reached the little hamlet on the shelf of the mountain, the lastrays of the sun were playing on the summits above. We had mounted about2000 feet since leaving the Tind Lake, and the dusky valley yawned farbeneath us, its termination invisible, as if leading downward into alower world. Many hundreds of feet below the edge of the wild littleplatform on which we stood, thundered the Maan in a cleft, the bottom ofwhich the sun has never beheld. Beyond this the path was impracticablefor horses; we walked, climbed, or scrambled along the side of the dizzysteep, where, in many places, a false step would have sent us to thebrink of gulfs whose mysteries we had no desire to explore. After we hadadvanced nearly two miles in this manner, ascending rapidly all thetime, a hollow reverberation, and a glimpse of profounder abysses ahead, revealed the neighbourhood of the Riukan. All at once patches of luridgloom appeared through the openings of the birch thicket we werethreading, and we came abruptly upon the brink of the great chasm intowhich the river falls. The Riukan lay before us, a miracle of sprayey splendour, an apparitionof unearthly loveliness, set in a framework of darkness and terrorbefitting the jaws of hell. Before us, so high against the sky as toshut out the colours of sunset, rose the top of the valley--the level ofthe Hardanger table land, on which, a short distance further, lies theMiös-Vand, a lovely lake, in which the Maan Elv is born. The river firstcomes into sight a mass of boiling foam, shooting around the corner of aline of black cliffs which are rent for its passage, curves to the rightas it descends, and then drops in a single fall of 500 feet in a hollowcaldron of bare black rock. The water is already foam as it leaps fromthe summit; and the successive waves, as they are whirled into the air, and feel the gusts which for ever revolve around the abyss, drop intobeaded fringes in falling, and go fluttering down like scarfs of therichest lace. It is not water, but the spirit of water. The bottom islost in a shifting snowy film, with starry rays of foam radiating fromits heart, below which, as the clouds shifts, break momentary gleams ofperfect emerald light. What fairy bowers of some Northern Undine aresuggested in those sudden flashes of silver and green! In that dimprofound, which human eye can but partially explore, in which human footshall never be set, what secret wonders may still lie hidden! And aroundthis vision of perfect loveliness, rise the awful walls wet with spraywhich never dries, and crossed by ledges of dazzling turf, from the gulfso far below our feet, until, still further above our heads, they lifttheir irregular cornices against the sky. I do not think I am extravagant when I say that the Riukan Foss is themost beautiful cataract in the world. I looked upon it with thatinvoluntary suspension of the breath and quickening of the pulse, whichis the surest recognition of beauty. The whole scene, with its breadthand grandeur of form, and its superb gloom of colouring, enshrining thisone glorious flash of grace, and brightness, and loveliness, isindelibly impressed upon my mind. Not alone during that half hour offading sunset, but day after day, and night after night, the embroideredspray wreaths of the Riukan were falling before me. We turned away reluctantly at last, when the emerald pavement ofUndine's palace was no longer visible through the shooting meteors ofsilver foam. The depths of Westfjord-dal were filled with purpledarkness: only the perfect pyramid of the Gousta, lifted upon a mountainbasement more than 4000 feet in height, shone like a colossal wedge offire against the violet sky. By the time we reached our horses wediscovered that we were hungry, and, leaving the attendants to follow attheir leisure, we urged the tired animals down the rocky road. The smellof fresh-cut grain and sweet mountain hay filled the cool evening air;darkness crept under the birches and pines, and we no longer met thehome-going harvesters. Between nine and ten our horses took the way to a_gaard_ standing a little off the road; but it did not appear to be OleTorgensen's, so we kept on. In the darkness, however, we began to doubtour memory, and finally turned back again. This time there could be nomistake: it was _not_ Ole Torgensen's. I knocked at various doors, andhallooed loudly, until a sleepy farmer made his appearance, and startedus forward again. He kindly offered to accompany us, but we did notthink it necessary. Terribly fatigued and hungry, we at last saw a starof promise--the light of Ole's kitchen window. There was a white clothon the table in the guests' house, and Ole's charming daughter--the Roseof Westfjord-dalen--did not keep us long waiting. Roast mutton, tenderas her own heart, potatoes plump as her cheeks, and beer sparkling asher eyes, graced the board; but emptiness, void as our own celibatelives, was there when we arose. In the upper room there were beds, withlinen fresh as youth and aromatic as spring; and the peace of a fullstomach and a clear conscience descended upon our sleep. In the morning we prepared for an early return to Mael, as the boatmenwere anxious to get back to their barley-fields. I found but oneexpression in the guests' book--that of satisfaction with Ole Torgensen, and cheerfully added our amen to the previous declarations. Ole's billproved his honesty, no less than his worthy face. He brightened up onlearning that we were Americans. "Why, " said he, "there have only beentwo Americans here before in all my life; and you cannot be a _born_American, because you speak Norsk so well. " "Oh, " said I, "I havelearned the language in travelling. " "Is it possible?" he exclaimed:"then you must have a powerful intellect. " "By no means, " said I, "it isa very easy thing; I have travelled much, and can speak six otherlanguages. " "Now, God help us!" cried he; "_seven_ languages! It istruly wonderful how much comprehension God has given unto man, that hecan keep seven languages in his head at one time. Here am I, and I amnot a fool; yet I do not see how it would be possible for me to speakanything but Norsk; and when I think of you, it shows me what wondersGod has done. Will you not make a mark under your name, in the book, sothat I may distinguish you from the other two?" I cheerfully complied, and hereby notify future visitors why my name is italicised in Ole'sbook. We bade farewell to the good old man, and rode down the valley of theMaan, through the morning shadow of the Gousta. Our boat was inreadiness; and its couch of fir boughs in the stern became a pleasantdivan of indolence, after our hard horses and rough roads. We reachedTinoset by one o'clock, but were obliged to wait until four for horses. The only refreshment we could obtain was oaten bread, and weak sprucebeer. Off at last, we took the post-road to Hitterdal, a smooth, excellent highway, through interminable forests of fir and pine. Towardsthe close of the stage, glimpses of a broad, beautiful, andthickly-settled valley glimmered through the woods, and we foundourselves on the edge of a tremendous gully, apparently the bed of anextinct river. The banks on both sides were composed entirely of graveland huge rounded pebbles, masses of which we loosened at the top, andsent down the sides, gathering as they rolled, until in a cloud of dustthey crashed with a sound like thunder upon the loose shingles of thebottom 200 feet below. It was scarcely possible to account for thisphenomenon by the action of spring torrents from the melted snow. Theimmense banks of gravel, which we found to extend for a considerabledistance along the northern side of the valley, seemed rather to be thedeposit of an ocean-flood. Hitterdal, with its enclosed fields, its harvests, and groups ofpicturesque, substantial farm-houses, gave us promise of good quartersfor the night; and when our postillions stopped at the door of aprosperous-looking establishment, we congratulated ourselves on ourluck. But (--) never whistle until you are out of the woods. The peopleseemed decidedly not to like the idea of our remaining, but promised togive us supper and beds. They were stupid, but not unfriendly; and ourcauses of dissatisfaction were, first, that they were so outrageouslyfilthy, and secondly, that they lived so miserably when their meansevidently allowed them to do better. The family room, with its twocumbrous bedsteads built against the wall, and indescribably dirty beds, was given up to us, the family betaking themselves to the stable. Asthey issued thence in the morning, in single garments, we wereinvoluntary observers of their degree of bodily neatness; and theimpression was one we would willingly forget. Yet a great painted deskin the room contained, amid many flourishes, the names and character ofthe host and hostess, as follows:--"Andres Svennogsen Bamble, and RagnilThorkilsdatter Bamble, Which These Two Are Respectable People. " Over thecupboard, studded with earthen-ware dishes, was an inscription inmisspelt Latin: "Solli Deo Glorria. " Our supper consisted of boiledpotatoes and fried salt pork, which, having seen the respectable hosts, it required considerable courage to eat, although we had not seen thecooking. Fleas darkened the floor; and they, with the fear of somethingworse, prevented us from sleeping much. We did not ask for coffee in themorning, but, as soon as we could procure horses, drove away hungry anddisgusted from Bamble-Kaasa and its respectable inhabitants. The church of Hitterdal, larger than that of Borgund, dates from aboutthe same period, probably the twelfth century. Its style is similar, although it has not the same horned ornaments upon the roof, and theByzantine features being simpler, produce a more harmonious effect. Itis a charmingly quaint and picturesque building, and the people of thevalley are justly proud of it. The interior has been renovated, not inthe best style. Well, to make this very long chapter short, we passed the beautifulfalls of the Tind Elv, drove for more than twenty miles over wild pinyhills, and then descended to Kongsberg, where Fru Hansen comforted uswith a good dinner. The next day we breakfasted in Drammen, and, inbaking heat and stifling dust, traversed the civilised country betweenthat city and Christiania. Our Norwegian travel was now at an end; and, as a snobby Englishman once said to me of the Nile, "it is a good thingto have gotten over. " CHAPTER XXXIV. NORWAY AND SWEDEN. We spent four days in Christiania, after completing our Norwegiantravels. The sky was still perfectly clear, and up to the day of ourdeparture no rain fell. Out of sixty days which we had devoted toNorway, only four were rainy--a degree of good fortune which rarelyfalls to the lot of travellers in the North. Christiania, from its proximity to the continent, and its character ascapital of the country, is sufficiently advanced in the arts of living, to be a pleasant resting-place after the _désagrémens_ and privations oftravel in the interior. It has two or three tolerably good and veryexorbitant hotels, and some bankers with less than the usual amount ofconscience. One of them offered to change some Prussian thalers for myfriend, at only ten per cent. Less than their current value. The_vognmand_ from whom we purchased our carrioles, endeavoured to evadehis bargain, and protested that he had not money enough to repurchasethem. I insisted, however, and with such good effect that he finallypulled a roll of notes, amounting to several hundred dollars out of hispocket, and paid me the amount in full. The English travellers whom Imet had not fared any better; and one and all of us were obliged torecede from our preconceived ideas of Norwegian character. But enough ofan unpleasant theme; I would rather praise than blame, any day, but Ican neither praise nor be silent when censure is a part of the truth. I had a long conversation with a distinguished Norwegian, on thecondition of the country people. He differed with me in the opinion thatthe clergy were to some extent responsible for their filthy andlicentious habits, asserting that, though the latter were _petitsseigneurs_, with considerable privileges and powers, the people werejealously suspicious of any attempt to exert an influence upon theirlives. But is not this a natural result of the preaching of doctrinalreligion, of giving an undue value to external forms and ceremonies? "Wehave a stubborn people, " said my informant; "their excessive self-esteemmakes them difficult to manage. Besides, their morals are perhaps betterthan would be inferred from the statistics. Old habits have beenretained, in many districts, which are certainly reprehensible, butwhich spring from custom rather than depravity. I wish they were lessvain and sensitive, since in that case they would improve more rapidly. "He stated also that the surprising number of illegitimate births ispartly accounted for by the fact that there are a great number ofconnections which have all the character of marriage except the actualceremony. This is an affair of considerable cost and show; and many ofthe poorer people, unable to afford it, live together rather than wait, hoping that a time may come when they will be able to defray theexpenses, and legitimate the children who may meanwhile be born. In somecases the parties disagree, the connection is broken off, and each oneseeks a new mate. Whatever palliation there may be in particularinstances, the moral effect of this custom is unquestionably bad; andthe volume of statistics recently published by Herr Sundt, who wasappointed by the Storthing to investigate the subject, shows that thereis no agricultural population in the world which stands lower in thescale of chastity, than that of Norway. In the course of our conversation, the gentleman gave an amusinginstance of the very sensitiveness which he condemned. I happened, casually, to speak of the Icelandic language. "The _Icelandic_language!" he exclaimed. "So you also in America call it Icelandic; butyou ought to know that it is Norwegian. It is the same language spokenby the Norwegian Vikings who colonised Iceland--the old Norsk, whichoriginated here, and was merely carried thither. " "We certainly havesome reason, " I replied, "seeing that it now only exists in Iceland, andhas not been spoken in Norway for centuries; but let me ask why you, speaking Danish, call your language Norsk. " "Our language, as writtenand printed, is certainly pure Danish, " said he; "but there is somedifference of accent in speaking it. " He did not add that thisdifference is strenuously preserved and even increased by theNorwegians, that they may not be suspected of speaking Danish, whilethey resist with equal zeal, any approach to the Swedish. Often, inthoughtlessly speaking of the language as Danish, I have heard theill-humoured reply, "Our language is not Danish, but Norsk. " As wellmight we say at home, "We speak American, not English. " I had the good fortune to find Professor Munck, the historian of Norway, at home, though on the eve of leaving for Italy. He is one of the fewdistinguished literary names the country has produced. Holberg thecomedian was born in Bergen; but he is generally classed among theDanish authors. In art, however, Norway takes no mean rank, the names ofher painters Dahl, Gude, and Tidemand having a European reputation. Professor Munck is about fifty years of age, and a fine specimen of theViking stock. He speaks English fluently, and I regretted that theshortness of my stay did not allow me to make further drafts on hissurplus intelligence. In the Museum of Northern Antiquities, which issmall, as compared with that of Copenhagen, but admirably arranged, Imade the acquaintance of Professor Keyser, the author of a veryinteresting work, on the "Religion of Northmen, " a translation of whichby Mr. Barclay Pennock, appeared in New York, some three years ago. I was indebted to Professor Munck, for a sight of the Storthing, orNational Legislative Assembly, which was then in session. The large hallof the University, a semi-circular room, something like our SenateChamber, has been given up to its use, until an appropriate buildingshall be erected. The appearance and conduct of the body strikinglyreminded me of one of our State Legislatures. The members were plain, practical-looking men, chosen from all classes, and without anydistinguishing mark of dress. The speaker was quite a young man, with amoustache. Schweigaard the first jurist in Norway, was speaking as weentered. The hall is very badly constructed for sound, and I could notunderstand the drift of his speech, but was exceedingly struck by thedryness of his manner. The Norwegian Constitution has been in operationforty-three years, and its provisions, in most respects so just andliberal, have been most thoroughly and satisfactorily tested. The Swedesand a small conservative party in Norway, would willingly see the powersof the Storthing curtailed a little; but the people now know what theyhave got, and are further than ever from yielding any part of it. In thehouse of almost every Norwegian farmer, one sees the constitution, withthe _facsimile_ autographs of its signers, framed and conspicuously hungup. The reproach has been made, that it is not an originalinstrument--that it is merely a translation of the Spanish Constitutionof 1812, a copy of the French Constitution of 1791, &c. ; but it is nonethe worse for that. Its framers at least had the wisdom to produce theright thing at the right time, and by their resolution and determinedattitude to change a subject province into a free and independent state:for, carefully guarded as it is, the union with Sweden is only a sourceof strength and security. One peculiarity of the Storthing is, that a majority of its members are, and necessarily must be, farmers; whence Norway is sometimes nicknamedthe _Farmer State_. Naturally, they take very good care of their owninterests, one of their first steps being to abolish all taxes on landedproperty; but in other respects I cannot learn that their rule is not asequitable as that of most legislative bodies. Mügge, in his recentlypublished _Nordisches Bilderbuch_ (Northern Picture Book), gives anaccount of a conversation which he had with a Swedish statesman on thissubject. The latter was complaining of the stubbornness and ignorance ofthe Norwegian farmers. Mügge asked, (the remainder of the dialogue istoo good to be omitted):-- "The Storthing, then, consists of a majority of coarse and ignorantpeople?" STATESMAN. "I will not assert that. A certain practical understandingcannot be denied to most of these farmers, and they often bestow ontheir sons a good education before giving them the charge of thepaternal fields. One, therefore, finds in the country many accomplishedmen: how could there be 700 students in Christiania, if there were notmany farmers' sons among them?" AUTHOR. "But does this majority of farmers in the Storthing commitabsurdities? does it govern the country badly, burden it with debts orenact unjust laws?" STATESMAN. "That cannot exactly be admitted, although this majoritynaturally gives its own interests the preference, and shapes thegovernment accordingly. The state has no debts; on the contrary, itstreasury is full, an abundance of silver, its bank-notes in demand, order everywhere, and, as you see, an increase of prosperity, with aflourishing commerce. Here lies a statement before me, according towhich, in the last six months alone, more than a hundred vessels havebeen launched in different ports. " AUTHOR. "The Farmer-Legislature, then, as I remark, takes care ofitself, but is niggardly and avaricious when its own interests are notconcerned?" STATESMAN. "It is a peculiar state of affairs. In very many respectsthis reproach cannot be made against the farmers. If anything is to bedone for science, or for so-called utilitarian objects, they are alwaysready to give money. If a deserving man is to be assisted, if means arewanted for beneficial purposes, insane asylums, hospitals, schools, andsuch like institutions, the Council of State is always sure that it willencounter no opposition. On other occasions, however, these lords of theland are as hard and tough as Norwegian pines, and button up theirpockets so tight that not a dollar drops out. " AUTHOR. "On what occasions?" STATESMAN. "Why, you see (shrugging his shoulders), those farmers havenot the least _comprehension of statesmanship_! As soon as there is anytalk of appropriations for increasing the army, or the number ofofficers, or the pay of foreign ministers, or the salaries of highofficial persons, or anything of that sort, you can't do anything withthem. " AUTHOR. (To himself. ) "God keep them a long time without a comprehensionof statesmanship! If I were a member of the Storthing, I would have asthick a head as the rest of them. " On the 5th of September, Braisted and I took passage for Gottenburg, myfriend having already gone home by way of Kiel. We had a smooth sea andan agreeable voyage, and awoke the next morning in Sweden. On the dayafter our arrival, a fire broke out in the suburb of Haga, whichconsumed thirteen large houses, and turned more than two hundred poorpeople out of doors. This gave me an opportunity to see how fires aremanaged here. It was full half an hour after the alarm-bell was rungbefore the first engine began to play; the water had to be hauled fromthe canal, and the machine, of a very small and antiquated pattern, contributed little towards stopping the progress of the flames. Theintervention of a row of gardens alone saved the whole suburb fromdestruction. There must have been from six to eight thousand spectatorspresent, scattered all over the rocky knolls which surround Gottenburg. The fields were covered with piles of household furniture and clothing, yet no guard seemed to be necessary for their protection, and the ownersshowed no concern for their security. There is a degree of confidence exhibited towards strangers in Sweden, especially in hotels, at post-stations, and on board the inlandsteamers, which tells well for the general honesty of the people. Wewent on board the steamer _Werner_ on the morning of the 8th, but firstpaid our passage two days afterwards, just before reaching Carlstad. Anaccount book hangs up in the cabin, in which each passenger enters thenumber of meals or other refreshments he has had, makes his own bill andhands over the amount to the stewardess. In posting, the _skjutsbonder_very often do not know the rates, and take implicitly what the travellergives them. I have yet to experience the first attempt at imposition inSweden. The only instances I heard of were related to me by Swedesthemselves, a large class of whom make a point of depreciating their owncountry and character. This habit of detraction is carried to quite asgreat an extreme as the vanity of the Norwegians, and is the lesspardonable vice of the two. It was a pleasant thing to hear again the musical Swedish tongue, andto exchange the indifference and reserve of Norway for the friendly, genial, courteous manner of Sweden. What I have said about the formalityand affectation of manners, and the rigidity of social etiquette, in thechapters relating to Stockholm, was meant to apply especially to thecapital. Far be it from me to censure that natural and spontaneouscourtesy which is a characteristic of the whole people. The more I seeof the Swedes, the more I am convinced that there is no kinder, simpler, and honester people in the world. With a liberal common school system, afairer representation, and release from the burden of a state church, they would develop rapidly and nobly. Our voyage from Gottenburg to Carlstad, on the Wener Lake, had but onenoteworthy point--the Falls of Trollhätten. Even had I not been freshfrom the Riukan-Foss, which was still flashing in my memory, I shouldhave been disappointed in this renowned cataract. It is not a singlefall, but four successive descents, within the distance of half a mile, none of them being over twenty feet in perpendicular height. The ToppöFall is the only one which at all impressed me, and that principallythrough its remarkable form. The huge mass of the Gotha River, squeezedbetween two rocks, slides down a plane with an inclination of about 50°, strikes a projecting rock at the bottom, and takes an upward curve, flinging tremendous volumes of spray, or rather broken water, into theair. The bright emerald face of the watery plane is covered with anetwork of silver threads of shifting spray, and gleams of pale blue andpurple light play among the shadows of the rising globes of foam below. CHAPTER XXXV. A TRAMP THROUGH WERMELAND AND DALECARLIA. On leaving Carlstad our route lay northward up the valley of the KlarElv, in the province of Wermeland, and thence over the hills, by way ofWesterdal, in Dalecarlia, to the head of the Siljan Lake. The greaterpart of this region is almost unknown to travellers, and belongs to thepoorest and wildest parts of Sweden. We made choice of it for thisreason, that we might become acquainted with the people in their truecharacter, and compare them with the same class in Norway. Our heavyluggage had all been sent on to Stockholm, in the charge of an Irishfriend, and we retained no more than could be carried easily in twopacks, as we anticipated being obliged to perform part of the journey onfoot. It rained in torrents during the day we spent in Carlstad, and somelumber merchants of Gottenburg, who were on their way to Fryxendal, tosuperintend the getting down of their rafts, predicted that the delugewould last an entire month. There was always a month of rainy weather atthis season they said, and we had better give up our proposed journey. We trusted to our combined good luck however, and were not deceived, for, with the exception of two days, we had charming weather during theremainder of our stay in Sweden. Having engaged a two-horse cart for thefirst post-station, we left Carlstad on the morning of the 11th ofSeptember. The clouds were still heavy, but gradually rolled intocompacter masses, giving promise of breaking away. The city is builtupon a little island at the head of the lake, whence we crossed to themainland by a strong old bridge. Our road led eastward through aslightly undulating country, where broad woods of fir and birch dividedthe large, well cultivated farms. The _gårds_, or mansions, which wepassed, with their gardens and ornamental shrubbery, gave evidence ofcomfort and competence. The people were in the harvest-fields, cuttingoats, which they piled upon stakes to dry. Every one we met saluted uscourteously, with a cheerful and friendly air, which was all the moreagreeable by contrast with the Norwegian reserve. At the station, Prestegård, we procured a good breakfast of ham, eggs, and potatoes, and engaged two carts to take us further. We now turnednorthward over a lovely rolling country, watered with frequentstreams, --a land of soft outlines, of woods and swelling knolls, towhich the stately old houses gave an expression of contentment andhousehold happiness. At Deye we left our carts, shouldered our packs, and trudged off on foot up the valley of the Klar Elv, which is here abroad lazy stream, filled with tens of thousands of pine-logs, waitingto be carried down to the Wener by the first freshet. The scenerycharmed us by its rich and quiet beauty; it was without grand orstriking features, but gently undulating, peaceful, and home-like. Wefound walking very fatiguing in the hot sun, which blazed upon us allthe afternoon with a summer heat. The handsome residences and gardens, which we occasionally passed, gave evidence of taste and refinement intheir possessors, and there was a pleasant grace in the courteousgreetings of the country people whom we met. Towards evening we reacheda post-station, and were tired enough to take horses again. It was afterdark before we drew up at Ohlsäter, in the heart of Wermeland. Here wefound a neat, comfortable room, with clean beds, and procured a supperof superb potatoes. The landlord was a tall, handsome fellow, whosefriendly manners, and frank face, breathing honesty and kindness inevery lineament, quite won my heart. Were there more such persons in theworld, it would be a pleasanter place of residence. We took horses and bone-shattering carts in the morning, for a distanceof thirteen miles up the valley of the Klar Elv. The country was verypicturesque and beautiful, well cultivated, and quite thickly settled. The wood in the sheltered bed of the valley was of remarkably finegrowth; the birch trees were the largest I ever saw, some of them beingover one hundred feet in height. Comfortable residences, with orchardsand well-kept gardens attached, were quite frequent, and large sawmillsalong the river, which in some places was entirely concealed by floatingrafts of lumber, gave an air of industry and animation to the landscape. In one place the road was spanned, for a considerable distance, withtriumphal arches of foliage. I inquired the meaning of this display ofthe boy who accompanied us. "Why, " said he, "there was a wedding a weekago, at the _herregård_ (gentleman's residence); the young Herr gotmarried, and these arches were put up for him and his bride. " Theherregård, which we passed soon afterwards, was an imposing mansion, upon an eminence overlooking the valley. Beside it was a _jernbruk_, oriron-works, from which a tramway, some miles in length, led to themines. Resuming our knapsacks, we walked on up the valley. The hills on eitherside increased in height, and gloomed darkly under a threatening sky. The aspect of the country gradually became wilder, though, whereverthere was cultivation, it bore the same evidence of thrift andprosperity. After a steady walk of four hours, we reached the village ofRåda, where our road left the beautiful Klar Elv, and struck northwardstowards Westerdal, in Dalecarlia. We procured a dinner of potatoes andbacon, with excellent ale, enjoying, meanwhile, a lovely view over alake to the eastward, which stretched away for ten miles between thewooded hills. The evening was cold and raw: we drove through pine-woods, around the head of the lake, and by six o'clock reached Asplund, amiserable little hamlet on a dreary hill. The post-station was a forlorncottage with a single room, not of the most inviting appearance. I askedif we could get quarters for the night. "If you _will_ stay, of courseyou _can_, " said the occupant, an old woman; "but there is no bed, and Ican get you horses directly to go on. " It was a distance of thirteenmiles to the next station, but we yielded to the old woman's hint, andset forward. The road led through woods, which seemed interminable. Wewere jammed together into a little two-wheeled cart, with the boybetween our knees. He seemed much disinclined to hurry the horse, butsoon fell asleep, and one of us held him by the collar to prevent histumbling out, while the other took the lines, and urged on our slowbeast. The night was so dark that we had great difficulty in keeping theroad, but towards eleven o'clock we emerged from the woods, and found, by shaking the boy, that we were approaching the station at last. Thiswas a little place called Laggasen, on the northern frontier ofWermeland. Everybody had gone to bed in the hut at which we stopped. We entered thekitchen, which was at the same time the bedroom, and aroused theinmates, who consisted of a lonely woman, with two or three children. She got up in a very scanty chemise, lit a wooden splinter, andinspected us, and, in answer to our demand for a bed, informed us thatwe would have to lie upon the floor. We were about to do this, when shesaid we could get good quarters at the _Nore_, on the top of the hill. Her earnestness in persuading us to go made me suspect that she merelywanted to get rid of us, and I insisted that she should accompany us toshow the way. After some hesitation she consented, and we set out. Wefirst crossed a broad swamp, on a road made of loose logs, then climbeda hill, and trudged for some distance across stubble-fields, until mypatience was quite worn out, and Braisted made use of some powerfulmaritime expressions. Finally, we reached a house, which we enteredwithout more ado. The close, stifling atmosphere, and the sound of hardbreathing on all sides, showed us that a whole family had been for somehours asleep there. Our guide thumped on the door, and hailed, and atlength somebody awoke. "Can you give two travellers a bed?" she asked. "No, " was the comfortable reply, followed by the yell of an aroused babyand the noises of the older children. We retreated at once, and opened abattery of reproaches on the old woman for having brought us on a fool'serrand. "There is Ohlsen's, " she replied, very quietly, "I think I canget you a bed there. " Whereupon we entered another house in the sameunceremonious manner, but with a better result. A plump, good-naturedhousewife jumped out of bed, went to an opposite door, and thumped uponit. "Lars!" she cried, "come out of that this minute!" As we entered, with a torch of dry fir, Lars, who proved to be a middle-aged man, gotout of bed sleepily, picked up his clothes and marched off. The hostessthen brought clean sheets and pillow-cases, and by midnight we weresweetly and blissfully stowed away together in the place vacated by poorLars. Nothing could exceed the kindness and courtesy of the good people in themorning. The hostess brought us coffee, and her son went off to get us ahorse and cart. She would make no charge, as we had had so little, shesaid, and was quite grateful for the moderate sum I gave her. We had awild road over hills, covered with pine forests, through the breaks inwhich we now and then caught a glimpse of a long lake to the westward, shining with a steel-blue gleam in the morning sun. There were but fewclearings along the road, and miles frequently intervened without a signof human habitation. We met, however, with great numbers of travellers, mostly farmers, with laden hay-carts. It was Sunday morning, and I couldnot help contrasting these people with those we had seen on the same daythree weeks previous whilst crossing the Fille Fjeld. Here, every onehad evidently been washed and combed: the men wore clean shirts andstockings, and the women chemises of snowy whiteness under their gayboddices. They were mostly Dalecarlians, in the picturesque costume ofthe province. We entered Dalecarlia on this stage, and the frank freshfaces of these people, their unmistakable expression of honesty andintegrity, and the hearty cordiality of their greetings, welcomed usdelightfully to the storied ground of Sweden. Towards noon we reached the village of Tyngsjö, a little settlementburied in the heart of the wild woods. A mile or two of the southernslope of a hill had been cleared away, and over this a number of darkwooden farmhouses were scattered, with oats and potato-fields aroundthem. An odd little church stood in midst, and the rich swell of a hymn, sung by sweet Swedish voices, floated to us over the fields as we droveup to the post-station. The master, a tall, slender man, with yellowlocks falling upon his shoulders, and a face which might be trusted withmillions, welcomed us with a fine antique courtesy, and at once sent offfor horses. In a little while three farmers came, saluting usgracefully, and standing bareheaded while they spoke to us. One of them, who wore a dark brown jacket and knee-breeches, with a clean white shirtand stockings, had a strikingly beautiful head. The face was a perfectoval, the eyes large and dark, and the jet-black hair, parted on theforehead, fell in silky waves upon his shoulders. He was as handsome andgraceful as one of Vandyk's cavaliers, and showed the born gentleman inhis demeanour. He proposed that we should take one horse, as it couldbe gotten without delay, while two (which the law obliged us to take andpay for, if the farmers chose), would have detained us an hour. As thewomen were in church, the postmaster himself cooked us some freshly-dugpotatoes, which, with excellent butter, he set before us. "I have a kindof ale, " said he, "which is called porter; if you will try it, perhapsyou will like it. " It was, in reality, so good, that we took a secondbottle with us for refreshment on the road. When I asked how much weshould pay, he said: "I don't think you should pay anything, there wasso little. " "Well, " said I, "It is worth at least half a rigsdaler. ""Oh, but that may be too much, " he answered, hesitatingly. Our postillion was a fine handsome fellow, so rosy and robust that itmade one feel stronger and healthier to sit beside him. He did not sparethe horse, which was a big, capable animal, and we rolled along throughendless forests of fir and pine as rapidly as the sandy road wouldallow. After we had gone about eight miles he left us, taking a shorterfootpath through the woods. We guessed at our proper direction, sometimes taking the wrong road, but finally, after two hours or more, emerged from the woods into Westerdal, one of the two great valleys fromwhich Dalecarlia (_Dalarne_, or The Dales) takes its name. The day wasmagnificent, clear, and with a cold north-east wind, resembling thelatter part of October at home. The broad, level valley, with its fieldsand clustered villages, lay before us in the pale, cold autumnalsunshine, with low blue hills bounding it in the distance. We met manyparties in carts, either returning from church, or on their way to visitneighbours. All were in brilliant Sunday costume, the men in bluejackets and knee-breeches, with vests of red or some other brilliantcolour, and the women with gay embroidered boddices, white sleeves, andstriped petticoats of blue, red, brown, and purple, and scarletstockings. Some of them wore, in addition, an outer jacket of snowysheepskin, with elaborate ornamental stitch-work on the back. Theirfaces were as frank and cheerful as their dresses were tidy, and theyall greeted us with that spontaneous goodness of heart which recognisesa brother in every man. We had again taken a wrong road, and a merryparty carefully set us right again, one old lady even proposing to leaveher friends and accompany us, for fear we should go astray again. We crossed the Westerdal by a floating bridge, and towards sunsetreached the inn of Rågsveden, our destination. It was a farmer's _gård_, standing a little distance off the road. An entrance through one of thebuildings, closed with double doors, admitted us into the courtyard, ahollow square, surrounded with two story wooden dwellings, painted darkred. There seemed to be no one at home, but after knocking and callingfor a time an old man made his appearance. He was in his secondchildhood, but knew enough to usher us into the kitchen and ask us towait for the landlord's arrival. After half an hour our postillionarrived with four or five men in their gayest and trimmest costume, thelandlord among them. They immediately asked who and what we were, and wewere then obliged to give them an account of all our travels. Theirquestions were shrewd and intelligent, and their manner of asking, coupled as it was with their native courtesy, showed an earnest desirefor information, which we were most willing to gratify. By and by thehostess came, and we were ushered into a very pleasant room, with twobeds, and furnished with a supper of fresh meat, potatoes, and mead. Thelandlord and two or three of the neighbours sat with us before the fireuntil we were too sleepy to answer any more questions. A more naturallyindependent and manly bearing I have never seen than that of our host. He was a tall, powerful man, of middle age, with very handsome features, which were softened but not weakened in expression by his long blondhair, parted on his forehead. He had the proper pride which belongs tothe consciousness of worth, and has no kinship with empty vanity. "Wehave come to Dalecarlia to see the descendants of the people who gaveGustavus Vasa his throne, " said I, curious to see whether he wouldbetray any signs of flattered pride. His blue eye flashed a little, ashe sat with his hands clasped over one knee, gazing at the fire, a lightflush ran over his temples--but he said nothing. Some time ago aproposition was made to place a portrait of Gustavus Vasa in the churchat Mora. "No, " said the Dalecarlians, "we will not have it: we do notneed any picture to remind us of what our fathers have done. " The landlady was a little woman, who confessed to being forty-nine yearsold, although she did not appear to be more than forty. "I have had agreat deal of headache, " said she, "and I look much older than I am. "Her teeth were superb, as were those of all the women we saw. I do notsuppose a tooth-brush is known in the valley; yet the teeth one sees areperfect pearls. The use of so much sour milk is said to preserve them. There was a younger person in the house, whom we took to be a girl ofsixteen, but who proved to be the son's wife, a woman of twenty-six, andthe mother of two or three children. The Dalecarlians marry young whenthey are able, but even in opposite cases they rarely commit anyviolation of the laws of morality. Instances are frequent, I was told, where a man and woman, unable to defray the expense of marriage, livetogether for years in a state of mutual chastity, until they have saveda sum sufficient to enable them to assume the responsibilities ofmarried life. I know there is no honester, and I doubt whether there isa purer, people on the earth than these Dalecarlians. We awoke to another glorious autumnal day. The valley was white withfrost in the morning, and the air deliciously keen and cold; but aftersunrise heavy white vapours arose from the spangled grass, and the daygradually grew milder. I was amused at the _naïve_ curiosity of thelandlady and her daughter-in-law, who came into our room very early, that they might see the make of our garments and our manner of dressing. As they did not appear to be conscious of any impropriety, we did notthink it necessary to feel embarrassed. Our Lapland journey had taughtus habits of self-possession under such trying circumstances. We hadcoffee, paid an absurdly small sum for our entertainment, and took acordial leave of the good people. A boy of fifteen, whose eyes, teethand complexion kept my admiration on the stretch during the whole stage, drove us through unbroken woods to Skamhed, ten miles further down thevalley. Here the inn was a little one story hut, miserable to beholdexternally, but containing a neat guest's room and moreover, as wediscovered in the course of time--a good breakfast. While we werewaiting there, a man came up who greeted us in the name of our LordJesus Christ, on learning that we came from America. "Are you not afraidto travel so far from home?" he asked: "how could you cross the greatsea?" "Oh, " I answered, "there is no more danger in one part of theworld than another. " "Yes, " said he, "God is as near on the water as onthe land"--unconsciously repeating the last words of Sir HumphreyGilbert: "Christ walked upon the waves and quieted them, and he walksyet, for them that believe in Him. " Hereupon he began repeating somehymns, mingled with texts of Scripture, which process he continued untilwe became heartily tired. I took him at a venture, for anover-enthusiastic _Läsare_, or "Reader, " the name given to the Swedishdissenters. We had a station of twenty three miles before us, to the village ofLandbobyn, which lies in the wooded wilderness between Osterdal andWesterdal. Our postillion, a fine young fellow of twenty-two, over sixfeet in height, put on his best blue jacket and knee-breeches, with aleather apron reaching from his shoulders to below his knees. This is anarticle worn by almost all Dalecarlians for the purpose of saving theirclothes while at work, and gives them an awkward and ungraceful air. This fellow, in spite of a little fear at the bare idea, expressed hiswillingness to go with us all over the world, but the spirit ofwandering was evidently so easy to be kindled in him, that I ratherdiscouraged him. We had a monotonous journey of five hours through aforest of pine, fir, and birch, in which deer and elk are frequentlymet with; while the wolf and the bear haunt its remoter valleys. Theground was but slightly undulating, and the scenery in general was astame as it was savage. Landbobyn was a wretched hamlet on the banks of a stream, with a fewcleared fields about it. As the sun had not yet set, we determined topush on to Kettbo, eight or ten miles further, and engaged a boy topilot us through the woods. The post-station was a miserable place, where we found it impossible to get anything to eat. I sat down andtalked with the family while our guide recruited himself with a largedish of thick sour milk. "Why do you travel about the earth?" asked hismother: "is it that you may spy out the poverty of the people and seehow miserably they live?" "No, " said I, "it is that I may becomeacquainted with the people, whether they are poor or not. " "But, " shecontinued, "did you ever see a people poorer than we?" "Often, " said I;"because you are contented, and no one can be entirely poor who does notcomplain. " She shook her head with a sad smile and said nothing. Our guide poled us across the river in a rickety boat, and then plungedinto the woods. He was a tall, well grown boy of fifteen or sixteen, with a beautiful oval face, long fair hair parted in the middle andhanging upon his shoulders, and a fine, manly, resolute expression. Withhis jacket, girdle, knee-breeches, and the high crowned and broadbrimmed felt hat he wore, he reminded me strongly of the picture ofGustavus Vasa in his Dalecarlian disguise, in the cathedral of Upsala. He was a splendid walker, and quite put me, old pedestrian as I am, outof countenance. The footpath we followed was terribly rough; westumbled over stock and stone, leaped fallen trees, crossed swamps ontussocks of spongy moss, and climbed over heaps of granite boulders:yet, while we were panting and exhausted with our exertions to keep pacewith him, he walked onward as quietly and easily as if the smoothestmeadow turf were under his feet. I was quite puzzled by the speed hekept up on such a hard path, without seeming to put forth any extrastrength. At sunset he pointed out some clearings on a hill side overthe tree tops, a mile or two ahead, as our destination. Dusk wasgathering as we came upon a pretty lake, with a village scattered alongits hilly shore. The post-station, however, was beyond it, and aftersome delay the boy procured a boat and rowed us across. Telling us to goup the hill and we should find the inn, he bade us good bye and set outon his return. We soon reached a _gård_, the owner whereof, after satisfying hiscuriosity concerning us by numerous questions, informed us that the innwas still further. After groping about in the dark for awhile, we foundit. The landlord and his wife were sitting before the fire, and seemed, I thought, considerably embarrassed by our arrival. There was no bed, they said, and they had nothing that we could eat; their house wasbeyond the lake, and they only came over to take charge of thepost-station when their turn arrived. We were devoured with hunger andthirst, and told them we should be satisfied with potatoes and a placeon the floor. The wife's brother, who came in soon afterwards, wasthereupon despatched across the lake to bring coffee for us, and thepleasant good-wife put our potatoes upon the fire to boil. We lit ourpipes, meanwhile, and sat before the fire, talking with our host andsome neighbours who came in. They had much to ask about America, none ofthem having ever before seen a native of that country. Their questionsrelated principally to the cost of living, to the value of labour, theprice of grain, the climate and productions, and the character of ourlaws. They informed me that the usual wages in Dalecarlia were 24skillings (13 cents) a day, and that one _tunne_ (about 480 lbs. ) of ryecost 32 _rigsdaler_ ($8. 37-1/2). "No doubt you write descriptions ofyour travels?" asked the landlord. I assented. "And then, perhaps, youmake books of them?" he continued: whereupon one of the neighboursasked, "But do you get any money for your books?" The potatoes were finally done, and they, with some delicious milk, constituted our supper. By this time the brother had returned, bringingwith him coffee, a pillow, and a large coverlet made entirely ofcat-skins. A deep bed of hay was spread upon the floor, a coarse linensheet thrown over it, and, with the soft fur covering, we had asumptuous bed. About midnight we were awakened by an arrival. Twotailors, one of them hump-backed, on their way to Wermeland, came in, with a tall, strong woman as postillion. The fire was rekindled, andevery thing which the landlord had extracted from us was repeated to thenew comers, together with a very genial criticism upon our personalappearance and character. After an hour or two, more hay was brought inand the two tailors and the postillioness lay down side by side. We hadbarely got to sleep again, when there was another arrival. "I am thepost-girl, " said a female voice. Hereupon everybody woke up, and thestory of the two foreign travellers was told over again. In the courseof the conversation I learned that the girl carried the post twentyEnglish miles once a week, for which she received 24 _rigs_ ($6. 25)annually. "It is a hard business, " said the hump-backed tailor. "Yes;but I am obliged to do it, " answered the girl. After her departure wewere not again disturbed, and managed to get some sleep at last. We all completed our toilettes in the same room, without the leastembarrassment; and, with a traveller's curiosity, I may be pardoned fornoticing the general bodily cleanliness of my various bed-fellows, especially as the city Swedes are in the habit of saying that thecountry people are shockingly dirty. We had coffee, and madearrangements with the girl who had brought the tailors to take us backin her cart. Our host would make no charge for the bed, and next tonothing for our fare, so I put a bank-note in the hand of little Pehr, his only child, telling him to take care of it, and spend it wisely whenhe grew up. The delight of the good people knew no bounds. Pehr musthold up his little mouth to be kissed, again and again; the mother shookus warmly by the hand, and the father harnessed his horse and startedwith us. May the blessing of God be upon all poor, honest, and contentedpeople! Our road led between wooded hills to the Siljan-Forss, a largeiron-foundry upon a stream which flows into the Siljan Lake. It was alovely morning, and our postillion who was a woman of good sense andsome intelligence, chatted with me the whole way. She was delighted tofind that we could so easily make ourselves understood. "When I saw youfirst in the night, " said she, "I thought you must certainly be Swedes. All the foreigners I saw in Stockholm had something dark and cloudy intheir countenances, but both of you have shining faces. " She questionedme a great deal about the sacred localities of Palestine, and about thestate of religion in America. She evidently belonged to the _Läsare_, who, she stated, were very numerous in Dalecarlia. "It is a shame, " saidshe, "that we poor people are obliged to pay so much for the support ofthe Church, whether we belong to it or not. Our taxes amount to 40_rigs_ yearly, ten of which, in Mora parish, go to the priest. They sayhe has an income of half a _rigs_ every hour of his life. King Oscarwishes to make religion free, and so it ought to be, but the clergy areall against him, and the clergy control the _Bondestånd_ (House ofPeasants), and so he can do nothing. " The woman was thirty-one yearsold, and worn with hard labour. I asked her if she was married. "No, "she answered, with a deep sigh, looking at the betrothal-ring on herfinger. "Ah, " she continued, "we are all poor, Sweden is a poor country;we have only iron and timber, not grain, and cotton, and silk, andsugar, like other countries. " As we descended towards the post-station of Vik we caught a glimpse ofthe Siljan Lake to the south, and the tall tower of Mora Church, far tothe eastward. At Vik, where we found the same simple and honest race ofpeople, we parted with the postillioness and with our host of Kettbo, who thanked us again in Pehr's name, as he shook hands for the lasttime. We now had fast horses, and a fine road over a long wooded hill, which was quite covered with the _lingon_, or Swedish cranberry. Fromthe further slope we at last looked down upon Mora, at the head of theSiljan Lake, in the midst of a broad and fertile valley. Ten miles tothe eastward arose the spire of Orsa, and southward, on an island in thelake, the tall church of Sollerön. "You can see three churches at once, "said our postillion with great pride. So we could, and also the large, stately inn of Mora--a most welcome sight to us, after five days onpotato diet. CHAPTER XXXVI. LAST DAYS IN THE NORTH. Mora, in Dalecarlia, is classic ground. It was here that Gustavus Vasafirst harangued the people, and kindled that spark of revolution, whichin the end swept the Danes from Sweden. In the cellar of a house whichwas pointed out to us, on the southern shore of the Siljan Lake, he layhidden three days; in the barn of Ivan Elfssen he threshed corn, disguised as a peasant; and on the road by which we had travelled fromKettbo, in descending to the lake, we had seen the mounds of stone, heaped over the Danes, who were slain in his first victoriousengagement. This district is considered, also, one of the most beautifulin Sweden. It has, indeed, a quiet, tranquil beauty, which graduallygrows upon the eye, so that if one is not particularly aroused on firstacquaintance, he at least carries away a delightful picture in hismemory. But in order to enjoy properly any Swedish landscape whatsoever, one should not be too fresh from Norway. After dinner we called at the "Parsonage of Mora, " which has given MissFredrika Bremer the materials for one of her stories of Swedish life. The _Prost_, Herr Kjelström, was not at home, but his wife received uswith great cordiality, and insisted upon our remaining to tea. Themagister----, who called at the same time, gave us some informationconcerning the porphyry quarries at Elfdal, which we were debatingwhether we should visit. Very little is doing at present, not more thanten men in all being employed, and in his opinion we would hardly berepaid for the journey thither; so we determined to turn southwardagain, and gradually make our way to Stockholm. Fru Kjelström was one ofthe few Swedes I met, who was really an enthusiastic admirer of Tegner;she knew by heart the greater part of his "Frithiof's Saga. " The morning after our arrival in Mora dawned dark and cloudy, with awailing wind and dashes of rain. There were threats of the equinoctialstorm, and we remembered the prediction of the lumber merchants inCarlstad. During the night, however, a little steamer belonging to aniron company arrived, offering us the chance of a passage down the laketo Leksand. While we were waiting on the shore, the magister, who hadcome to see us depart, gave me some information about the Läsare. Headmitted that there were many in Dalecarlia, and said that the policy ofpersecution, which was practiced against them in the beginning, was nowdropped. They were, in general, ignored by the clerical authorities. Helooked upon the movement rather as a transient hallucination than as apermanent secession from the Established Church, and seemed to thinkthat it would gradually disappear, if left to itself. He admitted thatthe king was in favour of religious liberty, but was so guarded inspeaking of the subject that I did not ascertain his own views. We had on board about sixty passengers, mostly peasants from UpperElfdal, bound on a peddling excursion through Sweden, with packs ofarticles which they manufacture at home. Their stock consisted mostly ofpocket-books, purses, boxes, and various small articles of ornament anduse. The little steamer was so well laden with their solid forms thatshe settled into the mud, and the crew had hard poling to get her off. There was service in Mora Church, and the sound of the organ and choirwas heard along the lake. Many friends and relatives of the wanderingElfdalians were on the little wooden pier to bid them adieu. "God'speace be with thee!" was a parting salutation which I heard many timesrepeated. At last we got fairly clear and paddled off through thesepia-coloured water, watching the softly undulating shores, which soonsank low enough to show the blue, irregular hills in the distantbackground. Mora spire was the central point in the landscape, andremained visible until we had nearly reached the other end of the lake. The Siljan has a length of about twenty-five miles, with a breadth offrom six to ten. The shores are hilly, but only moderately high, exceptin the neighborhood of Rättvik, where they were bold and beautiful. Thesoft slopes on either hand were covered with the yellow pillars of theripe oats, bound to upright stakes to dry. From every village rose atall midsummer pole, yet laden with the withered garlands of Sweden'sfairest festival, and bearing aloft its patriotic symbol, the crossedarrows of Dalecarlia. The threatened storm broke and dispersed as weleft Mora, and strong sun-bursts between the clouds flashed acrossthese pastoral pictures. Soon after we left, a number of the men and women collected together onthe after-deck, and commenced singing hymns, which occupation they keptup with untiring fervour during the whole voyage. The young girls wereremarkable for weight and solidity of figure, ugliness of face, andsweetness of voice. The clear, ringing tones, with a bell-like purityand delicious _timbre_, issued without effort from between their thick, beefy lips, and there was such a contrast between sound and substance, that they attracted my attention more than I should have thoughtpossible. Some of the men, who had heard what we were, entered intoconversation with us. I soon discovered that they were all Läsare, andone of them, who seemed to exercise a kind of leadership, and who was aman of considerable intelligence, gave me a good deal of informationabout the sect. They met together privately, he said, to read the NewTestament, trusting entirely to its inspired pages for the means ofenlightenment as to what was necessary for the salvation of their souls. The clergy stood between them and the Voice of God, who had spoken notto a particular class, but to all mankind. They were liable to a fine of200 _rigs_ ($52) every time they thus met together, my informant hadonce been obliged to pay it himself. Nevertheless, he said they were notinterfered with so much at present, except that they were obliged to paytithes, as before. "The king is a good man, " he continued, "he meanswell, and would do us justice if he had the power; but the clergy areall against him, and his own authority is limited. Now they are goingto bring the question of religious freedom before the Diet, but we havenot the least hope that anything will be done. " He also stated--what, indeed, must be evident to every observing traveller--that the doctrinesof the Läsare had spread very rapidly, and that their numbers werecontinually increasing. The creation of such a powerful dissenting body is a thing that mighthave been expected. The Church, in Sweden, had become a system of formsand ceremonies. The pure spiritualism of Swedenborg, in the lastcentury, was a natural and gigantic rebound to the opposite extreme, but, from its lofty intellectuality, was unfitted to be the nucleus of apopular protest. Meanwhile, the souls of the people starved on the dryhusks which were portioned out to them. They needed genuine nourishment. They are an earnest, reflective race, and the religious element isdeeply implanted in their nature. The present movement, so much likeMethodism in many particulars, owes its success to the same genial andall-embracing doctrine of an impartial visitation of Divine grace, bringing man into nearer and tenderer relations to his Maker. In a word, it is the democratic, opposed to the aristocratic principle in religion. It is fashionable in Sweden to sneer at the Läsare; their numbers, character, and sincerity are very generally under-estimated. No doubtthere is much that is absurd and grotesque in their services; no doubtthey run into violent and unchristian extremes, and often merelysubstitute fanaticism for spiritual apathy; but I believe they will inthe end be the instrument of bestowing religious liberty upon Sweden. There was no end to the desire of these people for knowledge. Theyoverwhelmed us with questions about our country, its government, laws, climate, productions and geographical extent. Next to America, theyseemed most interested in Palestine, and considered me as speciallyfavoured by Providence in having beheld Jerusalem. They all complainedof the burdens which fall upon a poor man in Sweden, in the shape ofgovernment taxes, tithes, and the obligation of supporting a portion ofthe army, who are distributed through the provinces. Thus Dalecarlia, they informed me, with a population of 132, 000, is obliged to maintain1200 troops. The tax on land corresponded very nearly with the statementmade by my female postillion the previous day. Dalecarlia, its minesexcepted, is one of the poorest of the Swedish provinces. Many of itsinhabitants are obliged to wander forth every summer, either to takeservice elsewhere, or to dispose of the articles they fabricate at home, in order, after some years of this irregular life, to possess enough toenable them to pass the rest of their days humbly at home. Ourfellow-passengers told me of several who had emigrated to America, wherethey had spent five or six years. They grew home-sick at last, andreturned to their chilly hills. But it was not the bleak fir-woods, theoat-fields, or the wooden huts which they missed; it was the truth, thehonesty, the manliness, and the loving tenderness which dwell inDalecarlian hearts. We had a strong wind abeam, but our little steamer made good progressdown the lake. The shores contracted, and the white church of Leksandrose over the dark woods, and between two and three o'clock in theafternoon, we were moored in the Dal River, where it issues from theSiljan. The Elfdal peddlers shouldered their immense packs and set out, bidding us a friendly adieu as we parted. After establishing ourselvesin the little inn, where we procured a tolerable dinner, we called uponthe _Domprost_ Hvasser, to whom I had a letter from a countryman whomade a pedestrian journey through Dalecarlia five years ago. Theparsonage was a spacious building near the church, standing upon thebrink of a lofty bank overlooking the outflow of the Dal. The Domprost, a hale, stout old man, with something irresistibly hearty and cheeringin his manner, gave us both his hands and drew us into the room, onseeing that we were strangers. He then proceeded to read the letter. "Ho!" he exclaimed, "to think that he has remembered me all this time!And he has not forgotten that it was just midsummer when he was here!"Presently he went out, and soon returned with a basket in one hand andsome plates in the other, which he placed before us and heaped with fineripe cherries. "Now it is autumn, " said he; "it is no longer midsummer, but we have a little of the summer's fruit left. " He presented us to hissister and daughter, and to two handsome young magisters, who assistedhim in his parochial duties. We walked in the garden, which was laid out with some taste along thebrow of the hill. A superb drooping birch, eighty feet in height, wasthe crowning glory of the place. The birch is the characteristic tree ofSweden, as the fir is of Norway, the beech of Denmark, the oak ofEngland and Germany, the chestnut of Italy, and the palm of Esrypt. Ofnorthern trees, there is none more graceful in outline, but in the cold, silvery hue of its foliage, summer can never find her best expression. The parson had a neat little bowling-alley, in a grove of pine, on aprojecting spur of the hill. He did not disdain secular recreations; hisreligion was cheerful and jubilant; he had found something else in theBible than the Lamentations of Jeremiah. There are so many Christianswho--to judge from the settled expression of their faces--suffer undertheir belief, that it is a comfort to find those who see nothingheretical in the fullest and freest enjoyment of life. There was anapple-tree in the garden which was just bursting into blossoms for thesecond time. I called the Domprost's attention to it, remarking, in aline from Frithiof's Saga:--"_Hösten bjuder sin thron til varen_"(Autumn offers his throne to the spring). "What!" he exclaimed in joyfulsurprise, "do you know Tegner?" and immediately continued the quotation. There was no resisting the hospitable persuasions of the family; we wereobliged to take supper and spend the evening with them. The daughter andthe two magisters sang for us all the characteristic songs of Wermelandand Dalecarlia which they could remember, and I was more than evercharmed with the wild, simple, original character of the native melodiesof Sweden. They are mostly in the minor key, and some of them mightalmost be called monotonous; yet it is monotony, or rather simplicity, in the notation, which sticks to the memory. The longings, the regrets, the fidelity, and the tenderness of the people, find an echo in theseairs, which have all the character of improvisations, and rekindle inthe heart of the hearer the passions they were intended to relieve. We at last took leave of the good old man and his friendly household. The night was dark and rainy, and the magisters accompanied us to theinn. In the morning it was raining dismally, --a slow, cold, drivingrain, which is the climax of bad weather. We determined, however, topush onward as far as Fahlun, the capital of Dalecarlia, about fourSwedish miles distant. Our road was down the valley of the Dal Elv, which we crossed twice on floating bridges, through a very rich, beautiful, and thickly settled country. The hills were here higher andbolder than in Westerdal, dark with forests of fir and pine, and sweptsouth-eastward in long ranges, leaving a broad, open valley for theriver to wander in. This valley, from three to five miles in width, wasalmost entirely covered with enclosed fields, owing to which the roadwas barred with gates, and our progress was much delayed thereby. Thehouses were neat and substantial, many of them with gardens and orchardsattached, while the unusual number of the barns and granaries gaveevidence of a more prosperous state of agriculture than we had seensince leaving the neighborhood of Carlstad. We pressed forward in therain and raw wind, and reached Fahlun towards evening, just in time toavoid a drenching storm. Of the celebrated copper-mines of Fahlun, some of which have been workedfor 600 years, we saw nothing. We took their magnitude and richness forgranted, on the strength of the immense heaps of dross through which wedrove on approaching the town, and the desolate appearance of thesurrounding country, whose vegetation has been for the most partdestroyed by the fumes from the smelting works. In our sore and soddencondition, we were in no humour to go sight seeing, and so satcomfortably by the stove, while the rain beat against the windows, andthe darkness fell. The next morning brought us a renewal of the sameweather, but we set out bravely in our open cart, and jolted over themuddy roads with such perseverance, that we reached Hedemora at night. The hills diminished in height as we proceeded southward, but thescenery retained its lovely pastoral character. My most prominentrecollection of the day's travel, however, is of the number of gates ournumb and blue-faced boy-postillions were obliged to jump down and open. From Hedemora, a journey of two days through the provinces of Westeråsand Uppland, brought us to Upsala. After leaving Dalecarlia and crossingthe Dal River for the fifth and last time, the country gradually sankinto those long, slightly rolling plains, which we had traversed lastwinter, between Stockholm and Gefle. Here villages were more frequent, but the houses had not the same air of thrift and comfort as inDalecarlia. The population also changed in character, the faces we nowsaw being less bright, cheerful, and kindly, and the forms less tall andstrongly knit. We had very fair accommodations, at all the post-stations along theroad, and found the people everywhere honest and obliging. Still, Imissed the noble simplicity which I had admired so much in the nativesof Westerdal, and on the frontier of Wermeland, --the unaffected kindnessof heart, which made me look upon every man as a friend. The large town of Sala, where we spent a night, was filled withfugitives from Upsala, where the cholera was making great ravages. Theviolence of the disease was over by the time we arrived; but thestudents, all of whom had left, had not yet returned, and the fine oldplace had a melancholy air. The first thing we saw on approaching it, was a funeral. Professor Bergfalk, who had remained at his post, and towhom I had letters, most kindly gave me an entire day of his time. I sawthe famous _Codex argenteus_, in the library, the original manuscript ofFrithiof's Saga, the journals of Swedenborg and Linnæus, the BotanicalGarden, and the tombs of Gustavus Vasa and John III. In the cathedral. But most interesting of all was our drive to Old Upsala, where weclimbed upon the mound of Odin, and drank mead out of the silver-mounteddrinking horn, from which Bernadotte, Oscar, and the whole royal familyof Sweden, are in the habit of drinking when they make a pilgrimage tothe burial place of the Scandinavian gods. A cold, pale, yellow light lay upon the landscape; the towers of UpsalaCathedral, and the massive front of the palace, rose dark against thesky, in the south-west; a chill autumnal wind blew over the plains, andthe yellowing foliage of the birch drifted across the mysterious mounds, like those few golden leaves of poetry, which the modern bards of theNorth have cast upon the grave of the grand, muscular religion of theearlier race. There was no melodious wailing in the wind, like thatwhich proclaimed "Pan is dead!" through the groves of Greece and Ionia;but a cold rustling hiss, as if the serpent of Midgard were exultingover the ruin of Walhalla. But in the stinging, aromatic flood of theamber-coloured mead, I drank to Odin, to Balder, and to Freja. We reached Stockholm on the 22nd of September, in the midst of a furiousgale, accompanied with heavy squalls of snow--the same in which theRussian line-of-battle ship "_Lefort_, " foundered in the Gulf ofFinland. In the mild, calm, sunny, autumn days which followed, thebeautiful city charmed us more than ever, and I felt half inclined totake back all I had said against the place, during the dismal weather oflast spring. The trees in the Djurgård and in the islands of Mälar, werestill in full foliage; the Dalecarlian boatwomen plied their crafts inthe outer harbour; the little garden under the Norrbro was gay withmusic and lamps every evening; and the brief and jovial summer life ofthe Swedes, so near its close, clung to the flying sunshine, that not amoment might be suffered to pass by unenjoyed. In another week we were standing on the deck of the Prussian steamer"_Nagler_, " threading the rocky archipelago between Stockholm and theopen Baltic on our way to Stettin. 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"--_Liverpool Standard. _ "There is no romance to us quite equal to one of Bayard Taylor's booksof travel. Fact, under his wonderful pen, is more charming than Fiction. "--_Hartford Republican. _ Bayard Taylor's New Work--- GREECE, RUSSIA, &c. (In Sept. ) Washington Illustrations, Prints in Octavo, 15 cts. Proofs on India paper, 4to, 50 cts. Proofs in Passe-Partout frames, each, $1. 50. Portraits. ADAMS, JOHN, MUNROE, JAMES, ANDRE, MAJOR, PAULDING, JOHN, ARNOLD, GEN. , PHILLIPSE, MISS, BURGOYNE, GEN. , PUTNAM, ISRAEL, CLINTON, GEO. , ROCHAMBEAU, COUNT, CLINTON, JAMES, SCHUYLER, GEN. , CLINTON, SIR HENRY, STARK, GEN. , CORNWALLIS, LORD, ST. CLAIR, GEN. , ELLSWORTH, OLIVER, STEUBEN, BARON, GATES, GEN. , SULLIVAN, GEN. , GLOVER, GEN. , SUMPTER, GEN. , GREENE, GEN. , STERLING, LORD, HAMILTON, ALEX. , THOMAS, GEN. , HOWE, SIR WM. , WASHINGTON AT 25, JAY, JOHN. WASHINGTON AT 40, BY C. W. PEALEJEFFERSON, THOS. , WASHINGT'N, BY TRUMBULL, KING, RUFUS, WASHINGTON, BY PINE, KNOX, HENRY, WASHINGT'N, BY WERTMULLER, KOSCIUSKO, WASHINGTON, BY P. PEALELEE, HENRY, WASHINGTON, BY STUART, LEE, CHARLES, WASHINGTON MONUMENT, BY H. K. BROWN, LAFAYETTE, WASHINGTON MONUMENT, BY CRAWFORD, LIVINGSTON, R. R. , WASHINGTON BUST, BY HOUDON, LINCOLN, GEN. , WASHINGTON BUST, BY CERACCHI, MADISON, JAMES, WASHINGTON, MRS. , MERCER, GEN. , WASHINGTON, MRS. , BY STUART, MARION, GEN. , WARD, ARTEMAS, GEN. MORGAN, GEN. , WAYNE, ANTHONY, MORRIS, GOVERNEUR, WASHINGTON, WM. , MORRIS, ROBT. , WOLCOTT, OLIVER, Views, &c. SITE OF WASHINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE, NEW YORK IN 1768, MOUNT VERNON, Rear View, HUDSON HIGHLANDS--ODDIE, MOUNT VERNON, Front View, BAY OF NEW YORK, (Vignette), PHILLIPSE MANOR HOUSE, BRADDOCK'S BATTLE FIELD, WEST POINT IN 1780, LAKE CHAMPLAIN--MILLER, HEAD QUARTERS AT TAPPAN, LAKE GEORGE--MILLER HEAD QUARTERS AT NEWBURGH, VALENTINE'S HILL, OLD CITY HALL, NEW YORK. Historical Scenes. 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Orders should be accompanied by a remittance; orparcels can be sent per Express, payable on delivery. +----------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Some inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in | | the original document have been preserved. | | | | Periods added to dollar amounts | | | | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | Page xii Guldbrandsde changed to Guldbrandsdal | | Page xiii FINNARK changed to FINMARK | | Page 13 Lubeck changed to Lübeck | | Page 15 afterward changed to afterwards | | Page 15 laboriously changed to labouriously | | Page 19 Tornea changed to Torneå | | Page 24 decended changed to descended | | Page 25 labor changed to labour | | Page 30 Freya changed to Freja | | Page 33 fiord changed to fjord | | Page 39 Trondjem changed to Trondhjem | | Page 47 Angesjö changed to Angesjö | | Page 57 Skelefteå changed to Skellefteå | | Page 61 Pitea changed to Piteå | | Page 62 dosed changed to dozed | | Page 65 Tornea changed to Torneå | | Page 74 civilized changed to civilised | | Page 75 Muonioniski changed to Muonioniska | | Page 109 conducter changed to conductor | | Page 110 Muonivara changed to Muoniovara | | Page 119 Lippivara changed to Lippavara | | Page 127 civilization changed to civilisation | | Page 129 fiord changed to fjord | | Page 144 labor changed to labour | | Page 147 plateaux changed to plateaus | | Page 149 Lippajärva changed to Lippajärvi | | Page 149 Palajock changed to Palajok | | Page 152 civilized changed to civilised | | Page 156 drunkeness changed to drunkenness | | Page 157 cotemporary changed to contemporary | | Page 160 Isaki changed to Isaaki | | Page 162 civilization changed to civilisation | | Page 166 Jokijalki changed to Jokijalka | | Page 173 Korpykilä changed to Korpililä | | Page 179 Mansbyn changed to Månsbyn | | Page 189 Skelefteå changed to Skellefteå | | Page 223 cotemporary changed to contemporary | | Page 248 radient changed to radiant | | Page 250 odors changed to odours | | Page 259 Romdal's changed to Romsdal's | | Page 286 Dronthiem changed to Drontheim | | Page 287 Dronthiem changed to Drontheim | | Page 310 lagest changed to largest | | Page 313 Tromsö changed to Tromsöe | | Page 328 heartly changed to heartily | | Page 330 DRONTHIEM changed to DRONTHEIM | | Page 330 Dronthiem changed to Drontheim | | Page 336 practised changed to practiced | | Page 342 naive changed to naïve | | Page 343 civilization changed to civilisation | | Page 353 lifve changed to lifvet | | Page 360 daguerrotypes changed to daguerreotypes | | Page 361 bodice changed to boddice | | Page 364 inn-door changed to in-door | | Page 366 Naerdöl changed to Naerödal | | Page 368 except changed to expect | | Page 372 labryrinthine changed to labyrinthine | | Page 377 Hemsedel changed to Hemsedal | | Page 378 Bjöborg changed to Bjöberg | | Page 381 Naes changed to Næs | | Page 393 quickeuing changed to quickening | | Page 406 develope changed to develop | | Page 407 Westerdale changed to Westerdal | | Page 410 herregåra changed to herregård | | Page 411 nothern changed to northern | | Page 413 unmistakeable changed to unmistakable | | Page 430 Sijan changed to Siljan | | Page 431 nothern changed to northern | | Page 431 pedlers changed to peddlers | | Page 436 practised changed to practiced | | Page 443 SURRENDERR changed to SURRENDER | +----------------------------------------------------+