Chapter IV: Minor Romantic Episodes

From Odde we returned to our old friend the stolkjaerre, and the American girl took a carriole. In this manner we had a little variety, for we changed places now and then. Both vehicles belonged to one man, who drove with us all the way, putting up when we did. This prevented the nuisance of continual change of horses and conveyance. The driver assured us that the carriole had been used by the German Emperor. I believe that in the season a great point is made of providing every stranger with _the_ carriole: hundreds are so honoured. Well, the Kaiser Wilhelm is a wonderful man, and he would be rash who should say, "This even the Emperor cannot do." To explain his frequent presence here, a story must be told. A few years ago, a young German lieutenant, riding down the steep road not far from the Laatefos on his bicycle, swerved from the straight course, and was hurled into the raging waters beside which runs the road. The incident is supposed to have been witnessed by a child and an old man, and a few weeks afterwards the poor victim's body, torn by the rocks beyond all recognition, was found at some distance from the spot where the disaster happened. The Emperor, with two hundred men, arrived to search for the body, and a stone to the soldier's memory has been erected by his Imperial Majesty. There is another story on the subject, which is only whispered; but our romantic friend seized upon it with eagerness, and wove a yarn of possibilities and improbabilities, of which she persists in believing the hero to be alive.

On our right hand as we drove in procession from Odde, preceded by the carriage and pair of the French nobility, lay the Buar glacier. It was of a wonderful green which we had not before seen, inasmuch as many of the glaciers we had passed were almost covered with snow and debris, which concealed their colour. The road took us for some way beside a charming lake; after this we passed several beautiful waterfalls, the spray from one of which was so considerable that the road beside it was converted into a pond, and in the moment we took to pass through it our clothes were made quite wet.

At Seljestad we rested, and then drove zig-zag uphill, or, rather, our horses walked zig-zag, and we, on foot, cut across the winding road, and reached the top of the hill without much effort long before our horses were in sight. We were three thousand four hundred feet above the level of the sea, and the air was chilly. Matters were not mended when we drove down the hill: the sun had gone in, and the late afternoon at that time of the year is often too cold for enjoyment. Therefore we stayed awhile at a big hotel at Horre, and made acquaintance with a very warming drink, arac punch. After this we had recourse to it pretty frequently on our cold drives. Our driver tried to persuade us to stop at Horre; but it was still daylight, and we all wanted to get on. The landlady seemed rather chagrined at this obstinacy and bad taste; but on we drove for another half hour or so, when we arrived at Roldal. Here we found most of the hotels closed, and the owners almost on the point of departure. Also we found the young Frenchmen, who informed us that _they_ had ordered supper for 8.30--to consist of trout and chicken. This, of course, was the supper provided for the possible traveller, and of necessity was our supper too; but one of these boys apologised for its scantiness, and said he had only ordered for their party. This was rather a joke, as, acting on the advice of our driver, we had from our luncheon-place ordered supper to be ready at 8.30. However, the meal, as far as it went, was very good. Afterwards we all assembled in the one small sitting-room still available, and endeavoured to drink the white spirit which is drunk all over the country and called "aqua vita." To my taste it is abominable; but it is exceedingly strong, and perhaps this is a virtue which carries it far. We found two old packs of cards; the five of us played a good many rather ridiculous games, which amused us vastly, and brought the servants of the hotel to the door to discover the reason of our laughter. At breakfast we were all delighted with the delicious jam made from wild strawberries. Then we started on a day's drive in good spirits, the carriage and pair leading. Up, up, and always up, getting colder and colder by the way; a short rest at a wayside saeter; a drink of delicious creamy milk, not possessing, however, the warming qualities of our arac punch. The tiny masses of drifted snow which lie among the rocks, neglected by the sun, increased in size and volume. Here, on one of the rocks by the wayside, a big snowball had been placed, probably by the youths who led us on. Colder and colder grew the air, until at last we turned a corner, and saw before us a huge mass of dirty snow. It was impossible to plough this, or otherwise to get rid of it: so we drove through a tunnel hollowed out in the snow. This was the coldest place we reached. Gradually we descended and got into a less icy atmosphere. All the same, we were exceedingly glad to get out and warm ourselves at a little farm, where we drank port, and I used what powers of persuasion I possess in the endeavour to render myself the owner of a particularly attractive ironing-board, wielded by a blob of wood that was the most delightful attempt at reproduction of a horse that I have ever seen. Neither offers of money nor blandishments had the desired effect, and I was obliged to leave the longed-for object behind me.

Cheered and fortified by our wine, we drove on to the spot appointed for our luncheon. Haukelidsaeter is an enormous hotel under Government control. Prices are reasonable; they are regulated by the Norwegian Tourist Club. The immense dining-room is pleasing, being simple in design and embellishment. Opposite the hotel is a building in the style of the much-admired old storehouses. It was closed while we were there; but in the season it provides excellent sleeping accommodation.

Here we fell in again with our fellow-travellers and their servant, and we ate very gaily together of tough stewed goat and excellent cream pudding.

We drove on, and arrived rather early at a very pleasant little station, of which, however, I have forgotten the name. It was only about five o'clock, and in Norway there is nothing satisfactory to eat between dinner at two and supper at eight or nine: so I bought half a kilogramme of chocolate, and asked for milk and cream. I had some difficulty in getting a saucepan; but eventually I discovered the kitchen and helped myself, to the amusement of the scarlet-coated maid, who was already making preparations for our supper. I made the chocolate; and we all drank it, after our fish supper, with the remainder of a bottle of a very sweet and cloying liqueur called Augustine, which we had bought at Haukelidsaeter by general subscription, in place of the arac punch, which was not attainable. The American girl and I left Augustine severely alone.

Next morning I bought with much joy an old and beautifully carved wooden box. I was very glad to give fifteen kroner for it; but, deeply attached to it as I was, we went off without it. I remembered it before we had gone very far, and raced back alone in the carriole. Then I caught the others up. Our driver expressing great curiosity as to my parcel, I showed it to him. He wanted to know the price, and I told him, rather proud of myself at having made a good bargain, as I thought; but he laughed discreetly, and informed us that in the depth of winter, when money is scarce among the peasants, their treasures are bought up by men, going round for the purpose, for next to nothing. Thus the summer tourist always pays heavily. If he gets things from the peasants themselves, they have to "get even" with the forced sales of the winter. As for the town antiquaries, the price they ask for their treasures would make a Dutch peasant blush, and anyone who has endeavoured to obtain the object of his fancy from such an one will realise that this is no light task.

That day we drove through mysterious pine-woods, which kept from us all the warming rays of the sun. Before we reached the forest the road followed the course of a river, and then, leaving that, ran beside a lake. Most of the way we walked, to warm ourselves. It was late in the year for this route, and we were alone on the road--at any rate, for this portion of it. Later we met strings of peasants coming from a fair.

We had luncheon at a little place which was quite off its head with business. There had been a cattle fair some distance off, and all those interested were on the road, making their way home. During our drive that afternoon we met some of the prize-winners, horses and cattle decorated with ribbon rosettes of many colours, and carrying their certificates suspended from their horns or from their necks. The placing of the rosettes was amusing. In most cases the animals were attended by a handmaiden in a dark skirt, a black velvet bodice elaborately embroidered in coloured silk, and a fringed kerchief tied gracefully round the head, and falling down the back with the long thick hair. Most of the peasant women in Telemarken, of whatever age, wear their hair loose, as indeed do the poorer country women all over Norway. However, the prize cows were making their way but slowly, grazing unchidden on invisible food among the fallen leaves by the wayside; doubtless the women were the wives and daughters of the burly farmers whom we had left enjoying their dinner at our last halting-place.

Somewhere that day we passed a turning in the road that, had we taken it, would have led us to the wonderful Rjukan Fos, of which romantic stories have been told. Many of the most beautiful spots in Norway are rendered more interesting by various legends connected with them. One cannot guarantee their accuracy; but they are very welcome. I quote this tragic romance as a dark gem set in the Rjukan Fos.

"Near the Rjukan Fos there is a path over the mountain called the 'Marie Stige,' on the brink of the precipice of the famous fall, which even at this day the traveller treads with fear, and which was discovered by a young maiden in the courage of love. It was by this path that the beautiful Marie of Westfjorddalen went with light and fearless step to meet the friend of her childhood, Ejestein Halfoordsen. But the avarice of her father separated them, and Marie's tears and prayers prevailed upon her lover to fly, to escape the plot formed by a treacherous rival against his life. Years passed, and Marie was firm in her constancy. Her father died; Ejestein had by his valour and nobleness made his former enemy his friend, and after their long separation the lovers were to meet again. Ejestein hastened by the shortest way, the Marie Stige, to meet his beloved. Long had she watched for him; she saw him coming, and his name burst from her with a joyful cry. He saw and rushed to meet her, but fell, and the Rjukan whirled him into its foaming depths. For many years after this a pale form, in whose beautiful eyes a quiet madness lay, wandered daily on the Marie Stige, and seemed to talk with someone in the abyss below. Here she walked until a merciful voice summoned her to go and rest in the arms of her beloved."

All the way to Dalen our drive was brightened by the rosetted cows, making their way up the hill which we descended. The mountain rose sheer on our right, two thousand feet above the road; on our left, awe-inspiring precipices made us hold our breath, as every now and then we were obliged to pass a vehicle coming the opposite way. The young Frenchmen in the carriage and pair were driving immediately before us. Suddenly there was a crash, and down fell one of their horses. The outer wheels of the vehicle were over the edge of the precipice. For one terrible second it was as if an awful tragedy could not be averted. The splendid little pony on the mountain-side held good his ground, and my driver, by sheer bodily force, half lifted, half pushed, the carriage from its dangerous position. The three occupants had jumped out; but the driver, almost paralysed with terror, was still sitting on his box. The pony had broken the shaft on which it had fallen, but, fortunately, had done itself no harm. Between them the men patched it up as well as they could, and we proceeded. We were not very far from Dalen, however, and the young men elected to walk the rest of the journey. We kept behind the carriage, in fear of further accidents, and went along so slowly that the walkers arrived some time before we did.

The big hotel at Dalen was closed, and we all took rooms in a smaller place almost opposite, which proved one of the most comfortable resting-places we had come across in Norway. Indeed, that very evening Nico and I made up our minds to stay there for some time, and so turned our supper into a farewell meal. In celebration, we drank one another's health in exceedingly sweet champagne, and then again in small glasses of arac punch, in which we invited our host and his wife to join us, thus establishing a friendly feeling of which Nico and I reaped the benefit during our stay.

The American girl and the French youths with their valet were travelling together as far as Christiania: so we bade them good-bye before we retired for the night. Nico, in the fulness of his heart, announced his intention of getting up next morning at five, to see them off. He went to the length of asking the maid to call him when she should awake the travellers; and in the dark hours of the morning, when, following her directions, she awoke only me, I finished her work, and pointed out to Nico the necessity of fulfilling rash promises. My arguments were strong, and Nico got up and saw the party off. He was exceedingly pleased with himself when he came back.

We stayed for some time at Dalen. We were well fed, well lodged, and smiled upon by charming waitresses in their red sleeveless bodices and white frilled blouses; besides, we were favoured with most glorious weather. Nico worked hard, and found delightful models in the farmer's two daughters--one a lovely Madonna-like girl of fifteen, and the other a curly-haired little pickle of three. I passed most of the day hours basking in the sun and reading anything I could find, which resolved itself into a few numbers of _Cook's Tourist Gazette_ and three numbers of Dowie's paper from Zion City, U.S.A. The American journals contained many violent remarks about the prophet's reception in England; but in one number I read he appeared to pity us for our denseness. This literature, advertisements and all, did not entertain me long, and I went to the shop which was part of the premises to see if there was anything I could buy. I found only a very ordinary assortment of German hand-made goods, together with a strongly smelling selection of various food-stuffs, and one or two drawers full of mixed sweets for the entertainment of the youth of the village. So I unpicked a blouse of my own, and sewed it together again by hand, and that very neatly. Then I looked through the papers again, and found that I had missed a few words in the course of several of the sheets, stating who was the printer of these effusions. One night a party of English folk arrived, travelling from Christiania to Odde, at forbidden speed: that is to say, by rising early and travelling until late they were making in two days a journey which is fixed by law as taking three. I persuaded Nico to go to them after supper and to ask them if they had anything to read which they would exchange for the books I had carried with me and read three or four times. With great joy he brought back two magazines and a book.

Another day I hired a carriole and the farmer's son to drive me to the Ravngju (the Raven's Abyss), which is a rock hanging over a precipice at a height of fourteen hundred feet, above a dashing river. I learnt from my guide-book that the draught of air is so strong that if one throws a hat over the precipice it will be refused by the abyss and blown back. I tried the experiment with my own head-gear, for which, fortunately, I had no respect and but little affection. Contrariwise, the Raven's Abyss changed its reputed tactics and stuck to it; at any rate, I never saw it again, and I drove home bareheaded.

During our stay here I discovered with great difficulty a few more facts about the Norwegian peasants' poetic and very interesting superstitions. The little gnomes, in whom all believe, often attach themselves to special farms. If any of the horses or cattle appear to thrive much better than their fellows, the folk will explain it, entirely to their own satisfaction, by saying that such beasts are the favourites of the pixies, who steal fodder from the other mangers to feed the animals in which they have chosen to interest themselves. Sometimes the gnomes devote themselves, by petty vexations, to worrying the life out of the people to whom they bear malice. The milk turns sour, the butter is rancid, the cattle pine away; and all from no apparent cause. It is told that one such haunted family at last made up their minds to move very secretly, and thought to leave the fairy cause of all their trouble behind them. As the last cartload of belongings left the farm and the people were congratulating themselves that they would get away without being discovered by the malicious familiar, he popped his head out of an empty barrel, and piping, "Oho! We are moving to-day!" jumped on the cart and followed them to their new home.

The trolls are big giants who live in the mountains and are very rarely seen. These spirits always dwell in the seventh mountain visible in the blue distance. Thus, of course, they can never be approached by those who set out in search of them; but in their fastness they keep beautiful maidens stolen from earthly homes.

The huldra also is an inhabitant of the heights. She is a witch who takes the form of a lovely woman, and meeting humans in the woods she lures them to follow her. Her dwelling is in the mountains, which she opens with a magic word. Inside is a gorgeous palace, filled with immense riches, and having dining-rooms containing splendidly decorated tables laden with all the food a Norwegian enjoys most, served on golden dishes. He who eats of these things is thenceforth in the power of the huldra. Occasionally he wins free; but never afterwards is he as he was.

In the country the folks speak of idiots and madmen as being "mountain-taken," believing that these are victims of the huldra's wiles.

If, however, the involuntary guest refuses to partake of the magic dishes in the mountain passes, he sees before his eyes the dishes of exquisite food turning to pine cones and slabs of earth, while the huldra loses her fascination, and can no longer hide from him the cow's tail by which she is to be known, nor can she keep him prisoner any longer. Without knowing how, he finds himself back in the woods on the mountain-side; and he cannot discover the entrance to the fairy palace.

At Christmas, and indeed during all festivities, these various unseen powers are propitiated by offerings of food and drink, which are placed outside the farm, and invariably disappear. I should not like to swear that no agency but magic is responsible.

At several of the trees on the land of the farm hotel at Dalen were fixed little shelters, each having a small entrance and a gabled roof. These, we surmised correctly, were for the birds. The Norwegians are very fond of the small songsters, and in many districts it is forbidden to destroy them. This delighted us, the more, perhaps, that we had spent the previous spring in Italy, where heartless massacre of birds is carried on, one of the Italian's favourite dishes being half a dozen or a dozen tiny ones served on polenta. The sportsmen who indulge in the hunt sell the birds strung together--a thread through their heads--by the dozen. In Norway the birds are encouraged and petted, and in the winter fed. At Christmas time every one buys sheaves of oats or other cereals still in the ear, and hangs them outside the windows, or, fastening the bundles on poles, erects them in gardens and in the open spaces of the cities. He would be poor indeed who had not a few _ore_ to devote to the entertainment of the little feathered friends at this season of universal joy.

Poverty as we know it in England is scarcely to be found in Norway, and, on the other hand, riches as understood by a Norwegian living in his own country would by no means satisfy an aspirant for wealth on this side of the North Sea. Statistical information concerning income and property shows but a small difference between the principal classes. The income of the employer often does not exceed the wages of the average workman. A very slight change in the balance would bring many employers into the ranks of the employed. This happy country, though under the government of a Limited Monarchy, seems to fulfil the dreams of at least the reasonable Socialist. It has no nobility with political or economic principles, no great capitalists, no immense estates. The difficulty of earning a livelihood in the inclement climate and on the stormy coast calls for energy and endurance, and accustoms the worker to self-restraint. More than half the population own deposits in the Savings Banks. The spirit of equality is noticeable to the most casual observer. The proprietor of the station where you pass your nights is absolutely the equal of the guest, who avails himself of the house's hospitality for his own convenience, and apparently not for the profit of the owner. The servants who wait on one are pleasant and willing, working for their living, it is true, but showing none of the servility largely dependent on tips which is the characteristic of their class in other countries. If a _pourboire_ is given, small or large, it is accepted invariably with a frank handshake; in some cases it is difficult to induce its acceptance. A Norwegian, whatever his standing may be, is the equal of everyone. Politeness on the part of the traveller is such a necessity that the guide-books mention it. The domineering tourist will meet with difficulties and rebuffs.

MAINLY ABOUT SAINTS