Chapter III: I Go on My First Mission

Early in the spring of 1863 I was called to be present at the conference to be held in Christiania. I resigned, immediately, my place in the rope factory. According to law, six weeks' notice had to be given when a person resigned from steady employment; but if I was to reach the conference on time, I had to leave at once, for at that time there was no railroad between Christiania and Trondhjem. I was, therefore, obliged to tell the owner of the factory that I had to leave in one week. This was a hard nut for him to crack, especially since he had the law on his side. I told him that I was going to the conference, law or no law, and that I was going to be there on time. He finally gave in to my request, and even offered to meet me in the morning of my departure to bid me goodbye, and promised to send an apprentice to carry my satchel to the city limits.

On the morning of my departure, the master came, according to his agreement, and brought with him an old school teacher, connected with the church, as I supposed for the purpose of driving "Mormonism" out of me. Their plan did not materialize; our discussions were carried on in a friendly way, and at last they bade me goodbye, and gave me their best wishes for my future. The apprentice came and carried my satchel through the city. Thus I left my native city, to begin the many years of missionary service.

A Swedish rope-maker was also on his way to Christiania, and we, therefore, traveled together. We traveled on foot, along the country roads, the 350 miles that separate Trondhjem from Christiania. This was early in the month of March. The roads were difficult to travel for there was much snow. Moreover, neither of us knew the conditions and short cuts of the roads. We had snow shoes along with us, which made our journey more rapid in places where they could be used. On we traveled, day after day; along the valleys, over the hills, now in heavy drifted snow, now where the road was bare from the heavy winds.

In the course of our journey, we finally had to climb Dovre mountain, the highest divide in Norway. The mountain side was covered with drifted snow, and it was exceedingly difficult to walk there. One evening we reached the station known as Grievestuen, the first station north of Dovre mountain, and spent the night there on nearly the highest point of the mountain. This is far above the tree line, and no dwelling houses are found so far up on the mountain. The next day we crossed the mountain, for the first time for me, though it was not to be my last. That day we undertook, as usual, almost too much of a day's journey, for we traveled almost fourteen miles through the heavy drifted snow, to the second station from the one in which we had spent the night. Darkness overtook us. The road was filled with drifted snow, and in our worn-out condition we were in danger of giving up and remaining in the snow throughout the night. I had in my pocket a small bottle of camphor drops of which we took a drop now and then. This seemed to help us, and at length, we reached the station.

The next morning we walked ten or twelve miles downward into the beautiful and well-known Guldbrands Valley. Some days later we reached the beautiful city of Lillehammer, which lies at the end of the great lake of Mjosen. Ships here take passengers to Eidsvold; but, when we arrived, the lake was still covered with ice and we had to continue our foot journey twenty-eight miles farther. At last we reached the town of Gjevig, where we journeyed by ship to Eidsvold, the railroad terminus, where we boarded the train immediately, and found ourselves in Christiania the same day. The long walk was ended.

On the evening of my arrival, the conference began, in the large hall in Storgaden. Elder Rasmus Johansen was president, and the brothers Dorius were also there. I felt like one who has just escaped from a prison--glad and happy. We had a good time together. Nearly all of the missionaries and our local elders were there. During this conference I was called to go to Nordland on a mission, and I received my commission from President Rasmus Johansen. I suppose few of those present knew anything about Nordland at that time.

Soon after the conference, I began, alone, my long tramp of 350 miles, northward, to my native city of Trondhjem. On the return journey, however, I took a somewhat different route, through Osterdalen. On this trip, also, I had to walk across a great mountain and as I was not acquainted with the conditions, it was night before I came down from the mountain, into the nearest village. The people had all gone to bed. I knocked on the door of one of the houses. "Who is there?" asked someone. "A stranger who has come over the mountain," said I. "No, he can get no entertainment here," said a woman, briskly. "Hold on," said a man. "A man who has walked over the mountain alone at this time of night needs rest. I have been out myself and know what it means." He dressed himself, opened the door, put good food on the table, made my bed, and said, "Help yourself." This man was one of the many who has secured, for himself, a reward.

[Image captioned "MISSIONARY CERTIFICATE OF BISHOP ANTHONY L. SKANCHY. This certificate, issued in 1863, bears the endorsement of different police officers, under date of Nov. 2, 1863; June 10, 1864; and May 24, 1865."]

I came finally to the city of Roros, where many of my family lived, and to whom I bore my testimony. At last I reached Trondhjem where I secured work again in the rope factory, and where I worked during two weeks, in order to earn enough to buy a steamer ticket to the place assigned to me for my missionary labors. At that time, the missionaries were sent out without purse or scrip, and depended entirely upon the promises of the Lord.