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+font-family: "Times New Roman", Times, serif; +} + +body, a.hidden +{ +color: black; +} + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 +{ +color: #001FA4; +font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; +} + +p.byline +{ +font-style: italic; +margin-bottom: 2em; +} + +.figureHead, .noteref, span.leftnote, p.legend, .versenum, .stage +{ +color: #001FA4; +} + +.rightnote, .pagenum, .linenum, .pagenum a +{ +color: #AAAAAA; +} + +a.hidden:hover, a.noteref:hover +{ +color: red; +} + +p.dropcap:first-letter +{ +color: #001FA4; +font-weight: bold; +} + + + +</style></head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Peeps at Many Lands: Norway, by A.F. Mockler-Ferryman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Peeps at Many Lands: Norway + +Author: A.F. Mockler-Ferryman + +Illustrator: A. Heaton Cooper + Nico Jungman + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEEPS AT MANY LANDS: NORWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="front"> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><p></p> +<div id="d0e72" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/frontcover.jpg" alt="Original Cover." width="517" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Sætersdalen Girl in National Costume</p> +</div><p> +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e80" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p00.jpg" alt="Skjæggedalsfos, Hardanger Fjord" width="506" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Skjæggedalsfos, Hardanger Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e1085" class="typeref">61</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + +</p> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><p></p> +<div class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/titlepage.gif" alt="Original Title Page." width="498" height="720"></div><p> + +</p> +</div> +<div class="titlePage"> +<h2 class="docTitle">Peeps at Many Lands</h2> +<h1 class="docTitle">Norway</h1> +<h2 class="byline">By +<br> +<span class="docAuthor">Lieut.-Col. A. F. Mockler-Ferryman, F.R.G.S., F.Z.S.</span> +<br> +With twelve full page illustrations in colour +<br> +By +<br> +A. Heaton Cooper & Nico Jungman +</h2> +<h2 class="docImprint">London<br> +Adam and Charles Black<br> +1911 +</h2> +</div><div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><p><span class="smallcaps">First published September,</span> 1909 +</p> +<p><span class="smallcaps">Reprinted September,</span> 1910 + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e133" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="normal">Contents</h2> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>Chapter <span class="tocPagenum">Page</span> + +</li> +<li>I. <a href="#d0e370">The Land of the Vikings</a> <span class="tocPagenum">1</span></li> +<li>II. <a href="#d0e396">Modern Norway</a> <span class="tocPagenum">5</span></li> +<li>III. <a href="#d0e449">The People and Their Industries</a> <span class="tocPagenum">9</span></li> +<li>IV. <a href="#d0e519">On the Farm</a> <span class="tocPagenum">15</span></li> +<li>V. <a href="#d0e580">Manners and Customs</a> <span class="tocPagenum">20</span></li> +<li>VI. <a href="#d0e644">School and Play</a> <span class="tocPagenum">25</span></li> +<li>VII. <a href="#d0e750">Some Fairy Tales</a> <span class="tocPagenum">32</span></li> +<li>VIII. <a href="#d0e846">The Hardanger Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum">37</span></li> +<li>IX. <a href="#d0e904">A Glimpse of the Fjelds</a> <span class="tocPagenum">43</span></li> +<li>X. <a href="#d0e967">Wild Nature—Beasts</a> <span class="tocPagenum">48</span></li> +<li>XI. <a href="#d0e1013">Wild Nature—Birds</a> <span class="tocPagenum">54</span></li> +<li>XII. <a href="#d0e1078">Waterfalls, Snowfields, and Glaciers</a> <span class="tocPagenum">60</span></li> +<li>XIII. <a href="#d0e1152">Driving in Norway</a> <span class="tocPagenum">66</span></li> +<li>XIV. <a href="#d0e1246">Arctic Days and Nights</a> <span class="tocPagenum">70</span></li> +<li>XV. <a href="#d0e1317">Laplanders at Home</a> <span class="tocPagenum">78</span></li> +<li>XVI. <a href="#d0e1390">Winter in Christiania</a> <span class="tocPagenum">84</span></li> +</ol></div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="normal">List of Illustrations</h2> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li><a href="#d0e80">Skjæggedalsfos, Hardanger Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum"><i>frontispiece</i></span></li> +<li> <span class="tocPagenum"><span class="smallcaps">Facing Page</span></span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e358">Nærodal, from Stalheim, Sogne Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum">viii</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e439">Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum">9</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e509">Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage Interior</a> <span class="tocPagenum">16</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e634">A Hardanger Bride</a> <span class="tocPagenum">25</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e739">A Baby of Telemarken</a> <span class="tocPagenum">32</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e884">Godösund, Hardanger Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum">41</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e957">A Sæter</a> <span class="tocPagenum">48</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e1039">Bondhus Glacier, Hardanger Fjord</a> <span class="tocPagenum">57</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e1126">Lærdalsören</a> <span class="tocPagenum">64</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e1276">A Lapp Mother and Child</a> <span class="tocPagenum">73</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e1341">Skiers Drinking Goosewine</a> <span class="tocPagenum">80</span></li> +<li><a href="#d0e72">Sætersdalen Girl In National Costume</a> <span class="tocPagenum"><i>on the cover</i></span></li> +</ol> +<p><a href="#d0e352"><i>Sketch-Map of Norway on page vii.</i></a> + + +<a id="d0e349"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e349">vii</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><p></p> +<div id="d0e352" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/map.gif" alt="Sketch-Map of Norway." width="698" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Sketch-Map of Norway.</p> +</div><p> + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><p></p> +<div id="d0e358" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p01.jpg" alt="Nærodal, from Stalheim, Sogne Fjord" width="546" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Nærodal, from Stalheim, Sogne Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e412" class="typeref">6</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="body"><a id="d0e369"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e369">1</a>]</span><div id="d0e370" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="super">Norway</h2> +<h2 class="label">Chapter I</h2> +<h2 class="normal">The Land of the Vikings</h2> +<p>Who has not heard of the Vikings—the dauntless sea-rovers, who in the days of long ago were the dread of Northern Europe? +We English should know something of them, for Viking blood flowed in the veins of many of our ancestors. And these fierce +fighting men came in their ships across the North Sea from Norway on more than one occasion to invade England. But they came +once too often, and were thoroughly defeated at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, when, as will be remembered, Harald the Hard, +King of Norway, was killed in attempting to turn his namesake, King Harold of England, off his throne. + +</p> +<p>Norwegian historians, however, do not say very much about this particular invasion. They prefer to dwell on the great deeds +of another King Harald, who was called “Fairhair,” and who began his reign some two hundred years earlier. This Harald was +only a boy of ten years of age when he came to the throne, but he determined to increase the size of his kingdom, which was +then but a small one, so he trained his men to fight, built grand new ships, and then began his conquests. <a id="d0e381"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e381">2</a>]</span>Norway was at that time divided up into a number of districts or small kingdoms, each of which was ruled over by an Earl or +petty King, and it was these rulers whom Harald set to work to subdue. He intended to make one united kingdom of all Norway, +and he eventually succeeded in doing so. But he had many a hard fight; and if the Sagas, as the historical records of the +North are called, speak truly, he fought almost continuously during twelve long years before he had accomplished his task, +and even then he was only just twenty-one years of age. + +</p> +<p>They say that he did all these wonderful things because a girl, named Gyda, whom he wanted to marry, refused to have anything +to say to him until he had made himself King of a really big kingdom. He made a vow that he would not comb or cut his hair +until he had conquered the whole country. He led his men to victory after victory, and at length fought his last great battle +at Hafrsfjord (to the south of Stavanger). The sea-fight was desperate and long, but Harald’s fleet succeeded in overpowering +that of the enemy, and Sulki, King of Rogaland, as well as Erik, King of Hardanger, were slain. Then Harald cut and dressed +his hair, the skalds composed poems in honour of the event, and for ever after he was known as Fairhair. He was truly a great +Viking, and he did not rest content with the conquest of Norway alone; for he brought his ships across the North Sea and conquered +the Isle of Man, the Hebrides, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys, and he lived to the age of eighty-three. + +</p> +<p>Then there are the stories of the two Olafs—Olaf Tryggvasson and Olaf the Saint, each of whom took <a id="d0e387"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e387">3</a>]</span>part in many a fight on British soil, each of whom was the champion of Christianity in Norway and fought his way to the throne, +and each of whom fell in battle under heroic circumstances, the one at Svold (A.D. 1000), the other at Sticklestad (A.D. 1030). +To us it is interesting to know that King Olaf Tryggvasson, on one of his early Viking expeditions, was baptized in the Scilly +Isles, that as his second wife he married an Irish Princess, and that for some time he lived in Dublin. To the Norwegians +he is a Norse hero of the greatest renown, who during his short reign of barely five years never ceased to force Christianity +on the heathen population, and who, at the age of thirty-one, came to an untimely end. His fleet was ambuscaded and surrounded, +and when his men had made their last stand he refused to surrender. Neither would he suffer the ignominy of capture or death +at the hands of his enemies; so, with shield and sword in hand, and in full armour, he leaped overboard, and immediately sank. +For years afterwards his faithful people believed that he would appear again, and many fancied that, on occasions, their hero’s +spirit visited them. + +</p> +<p>Everyone knows the old triumphant line, “London Bridge is broken down,” yet few are aware that the words are translated from +an old Norse song, and fewer still could say who broke down the bridge. The story goes that this was accomplished by the other +Olaf, afterwards known as St. Olaf. He and his Vikings had allied themselves with Etheldred the Unready against the Danes, +who held the Thames above London Bridge. The bridge itself, which in those days was a rough wooden structure, was densely +packed with armed men, <a id="d0e391"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e391">4</a>]</span>prepared to resist the advance of the combined fleets. But Olaf drove his stout ships against it, made them fast to the piers, +hoisted all his sail and got out his oars, and succeeded in upsetting the bridge into the river, thus securing victory for +Etheldred. But that was before Olaf gained the throne of Norway. What he did as King of that country would take too long to +tell here. Every district of Norway possesses legends bearing on his visits when engaged in converting the people to Christianity, +and describing his powers of working miracles. Everywhere the name of St. Olaf still remains engraven on the country. His +death, however, was that of a soldier—on the battle-field; and the lance which Norway’s patron saint carried in his last fight +may even now be seen by the altar in Trondhjem Cathedral. + +</p> +<p>It was St. Olaf’s half-brother, Harald the Hard, who fell, as we have said, at Stamford Bridge, when attempting the invasion +of England in 1066. But all this is history nearly a thousand years old, and the stirring tales of the Vikings are fully recorded, +and may be read in the Sagas. Ten centuries have changed the order of things. To-day we have, in our turn, become the invaders, +albeit full of peace and good-will; and over the same seas upon which once danced Long Ship, Serpent, and Dragon, our great +ugly, smoky steamers now plough their way. + + + + +<a id="d0e395"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e395">5</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<div id="d0e396" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter II</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Modern Norway</h2> +<p>“Norroway over the Foam,” as it used to be called, is a good land to go to and a beautiful land to look upon. It lies less +than two days’ journey from our shores, so it is easy enough to reach. Away from the towns—and they are not many—everything +is picturesque, grand, and majestic, and the country indeed looks (as the people firmly believed of it long ago) as if it +might have been the playground of countless giants, who amused themselves by pulling up acres of land, letting the sea into +the valleys, and pelting each other with mountains and islands. Thank goodness the giants have disappeared! But if they really +did have a hand in fashioning Norway, they are to be congratulated on the result. + +</p> +<p>One of the first things one likes to know about a foreign country is its size. Well, Norway is just a little larger than the +British Isles, and that part of it which forms the usual holiday touring ground of British and other people—<i>i.e.</i>, from Trondhjem to the south—is no larger than England. The remainder of the country consists of a long, narrow strip running +up into the Arctic Circle, and ending in Lapland in the Far North. + +</p> +<p>On three sides Norway is washed by the sea; on the other side she has two neighbours—Sweden from the south right away up to +Lapland, and then Russia. + +</p> +<p>Now let us see what sort of a land it is. First, there are the fjords, stretching often a hundred miles <a id="d0e412"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e412">6</a>]</span>or more inland from the sea-coast, sometimes with delightful fertile shores, at other times hemmed in on either hand by rocky +cliffs rising two or three thousand feet sheer from the water. Then there are the mountains, which are everywhere; for, with +the exception of Spain, Norway is the most mountainous country in Europe. And on their summits lie vast fields of eternal +snow, with glaciers pushing down into the green valleys, or even into the ocean itself. Again, from these mountains flow down +rivers and streams, now forming magnificent waterfalls as they leap over the edge of the lofty plateau, now rushing wildly +over their rock-strewn torrent beds, until they reach the lake, which, thus gathering the waters, send them on again in one +wide river to the fjord. + +</p> +<p>Such things lend themselves to create scenery which cannot fail to charm, and in one day in Norway you may see them all. Take, +for instance, the famous view of the Nærodal from Stalheim, a place which every visitor to Western Norway knows well. Probably +nowhere in the world is there anything to approach it in grandeur, for not only are there the great mountains forming the +sides of the actual valley in the foreground, but away beyond appears a succession of other mountains, stretching far across +the Sogne Fjord, even to the snowy peaks of Jotunheim. + +</p> +<p>People who live in such a land must needs be proud of it, and the descendants of the Vikings believe that there exists in +the world no fairer country than their beloved Norge.<a id="d0e418src" href="#d0e418" class="noteref">1</a> Maybe they are not far wrong. But these Northern people are not numerous, and they <a id="d0e421"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e421">7</a>]</span>are not forced, for want of space, to spoil their landscapes by studding the country-side with little red-brick cottages, +for all Norway contains not one-half the number of inhabitants found in London. Under such circumstances the feeling of freedom +is great, and the Norwegians claim that, as a nation, they are the freest of the free. Recent events would seem to justify +the claim. Only the other day Norway dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her own free-will cast +herself loose from the light fetters with which, for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound. + +</p> +<p>With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late +to fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of +the horrors which war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence of hearth and home, for each able-bodied +man serves his time as a soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the world that the old Viking spirit +within him was still alive. + +</p> +<p>It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that is Norway’s charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life +is unknown outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, +whose money helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, +very few foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives. +<a id="d0e427"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e427">8</a>]</span></p> +<p>The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions, are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of +the whole population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. +What we term villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group of farms with a church in the neighbourhood. + +</p> +<p>Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, +Frederikstad, Tönsberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely situated. But the interest of a country such +as Norway does not lie in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings, well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, +places of amusement, and crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European towns, and a townsman’s life in +his town is much the same all over the civilized world. + +</p> +<p>Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates +their living in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country—of the fjeld, the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, +or the salmon river. In the summer nothing pleases them better than to tramp, with knapsack on back, for days on end, in the +wilderness of the mountains, obtaining shelter for the night at some out-of-the-way mountain farm or at one of the snug little +huts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. In the winter they have their sleighs, snow-shoes, toboggans, and skates to assist them +in taking air and exercise, and in a Norwegian winter one does not live in a state of uncertainty as to <a id="d0e434"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e434">9</a>]</span>whether the ice will bear or the snow be still lying on the ground when one wakes up in the morning. + +</p> +<p>So comfortable has travelling in Norway been made for foreigners that there is no difficulty in going anywhere. There is a +railway from Christiania to Bergen, and another from Christiania to Trondhjem. There are regular steamers on all the fjords +and along the coast, even up to the North Cape and beyond. Wherever there are roads there is a well-appointed service of vehicles +and posting-stations, and wherever anyone is likely to go by steamer, road, or rail there are hotels. + + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e439" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p09.jpg" alt="Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania Fjord" width="528" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e494" class="typeref">14</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a id="d0e418" href="#d0e418src" class="noteref">1</a></span> Pronounced Nor-gay. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div id="d0e449" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter III</h2> +<h2 class="normal">The People and Their Industries</h2> +<p>The greater number of the people are country-folk, who gain a living by farming, timber-working, or, when living near the +sea, by fishing. Then there are a certain number of men who are soldiers by profession, and more still who are sailors—not +fighting sailors, but serving on board the 8,000 merchant vessels which Norway possesses. + +</p> +<p>Everyone who lives in a Norwegian town is connected one way or another with some sort of trade or profession; and, of course, +in the seaports there are always ships coming and going, unloading and loading, and so providing plenty of work for a great +many men. In the towns also there are, as in every civilized town, men who follow regular professions—clergymen, merchants, +bankers, lawyers, doctors, hotel-keepers, shop-keepers, <a id="d0e458"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e458">10</a>]</span>and others, as well as Government officials, learned professors, literary men, and artists. + +</p> +<p>As a nation Norway cannot be considered wealthy, but the fact that she employs so many ships for trading purposes is perhaps +a proof that she is fairly prosperous. There are few really rich Norwegians, and still fewer who are able to live as independent +gentlemen on their estates; no man can claim the right to be called noble, for the nobility of the country was abolished by +law nearly a century ago, and since then equality has been the birthright of every Norseman. But no one can prevent money +made in trade gradually finding its way into the pockets of a few capable men of business, and thus class distinctions must +be created. The majority of the Norwegians, however, are content to work and earn sufficient to maintain themselves and their +families in fairly comfortable circumstances, and fortunately the products of the country enable them to do so. + +</p> +<p>The forests, covering as they do almost one-fourth of the area of Norway, are of immense value, and the timber trade is a +source of income to a great number of the people. Much of it, of course, is used in the country itself, as the houses and +bridges are mostly built of wood; but there is plenty left to be exported to England and other foreign countries, as anyone +who visits the ports in the South of Norway can judge for himself. Between Christiansand and Christiania, for instance, one +may see enormous stores of timber awaiting shipment, and one wonders how it will ever be shipped. Then, travelling among the +forest-clad mountains, one finds the woodman busy with his axe, and the great bare tree-trunks being hauled down to the banks +of the torrent <a id="d0e464"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e464">11</a>]</span>or river, so as to float on the waters to the low country, and thence even to the sea-coast. Again, on lakes like the Randsfjord, +the sight presented by the gathered logs, which have floated down from the mountains, and which are being rafted for their +final voyage, is an extraordinary one. Acres and acres of floating timber cover the end of the lake, and the massive trunks +are packed so close that you might wander about on them at your will for hours. + +</p> +<p>But it is not only timber in a raw state that does so much for the prosperity of Norway, for a great trade is done also in +matches as well as in wood-pulp. The latter is a comparatively modern industry, and its development has been rapid. Anyone +who visits Christiania and has the opportunity of taking the little town of Hönefos in his travels, should not fail to pay +a visit to the pulping works. It is said that in Chicago one may see a herd of swine driven in at the front gate of a factory +and brought out at another gate in the form of sausages. At Hönefos trees go into the works and come out as paper, or very +nearly so. + +</p> +<p>The waterfall, which gave a name to the place, is at the meeting of two rivers—one flowing from Spirillen Lake and the other +from the Randsfjord, and was at one time beautiful. Now, however, its picturesqueness is marred by the presence of a barn-like +structure containing the pulping works, while the fall itself is utilized to drive the machinery. And, it must be confessed, +all this has been brought about by an Englishman, for here at Hönefos is made the paper upon which is printed <i>Lloyd’s Weekly</i> and the <i>Daily Chronicle</i>. Neither is the fact concealed, but rather boasted of in large letters on <a id="d0e476"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e476">12</a>]</span>the outside of the barn. But Norway can well spare this one scrap from its storehouse of scenery, and the works find regular +employment for upwards of a hundred Norwegians. + +</p> +<p>The process of pulping is simplicity itself; the trees are felled in the forests on the hillsides close by, and sawn into +blocks. Aerial wires stretch from the felling ground to the works, and the blocks come swinging down in baskets, to be handed +over forthwith to the mercy of the machinery. With the aid of heavy crushers and a certain amount of water the logs are soon +reduced to pulp, which then floats away into sifters, to be eventually rolled out into flat sheets. + +</p> +<p>An immense amount of this pulp is exported to England in sacks, and is used for many other purposes besides paper-making. + +</p> +<p>Another thing which we get from Norway is ice. Most of those huge blocks of ice which you see in the fishmongers’ shops in +the summer have come across the North Sea, and ice-cutting is a very important business in the winter months. The ice is obtained +principally from the mountain lakes, and in the vicinity of Christiania long wooden chutes are erected from the mountain-tops +to the edge of the fjord. Down these the huge cubes travel, direct from their homes to the deck of the boat, and thus save +the cost of overland transport. They are sawn most carefully, the dimensions being about two feet each way; rope handles are +then frozen into the blocks for facility of movement, and the cubes are stored in ice-houses until the summer, by which time +they have lost almost half their original weight. + +</p> +<p>Next to timber, the chief export from the country is <a id="d0e486"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e486">13</a>]</span>fish (including cod-liver oil). The great fisheries are round the Lofödden Islands on the North-West Coast, well within the +Arctic Circle, and it is estimated that some 30,000 men and 6,000 boats are engaged in capturing the cod from January to April +each year. The fishermen assemble from far and wide, and take up their residence for the season in temporary huts, clustered +together on the shores of the islands. The work is arduous as well as dangerous, for storms and heavy seas are of frequent +occurrence, and tides and currents among the islands most treacherous. And here, close to the fisheries, is situated the dreaded +whirlpool, the Mælstrom of renown. + +</p> +<p>But it is the people’s living, and in a favourable season they make immense hauls. An ordinary catch for an ordinary day is +500 cod per boat, and a good day will double that number, though in such a case the boat has to make a second trip to bring +the fish ashore. A simple calculation will show that millions of cod are landed on the islands every day. Imagine the sight +and imagine the smell! + +</p> +<p>The fish are split open and, after the roe and the liver have been removed, hung up on hurdles to dry. Some are sold to the +fishing-smacks, which come to the islands to buy the fresh fish, and then salt it down in barrels, or take it away to dry +elsewhere. Scores of bundles of dried cod, looking like slips of leather, may be seen for the remainder of the year on every +wharf in Norway. Who eats it all is a mystery; but it goes to England and Spain in large quantities, and most of us have eaten +it on Ash Wednesdays. + +</p> +<p>Cod’s roe and liver are probably of more value than <a id="d0e494"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e494">14</a>]</span>the fish from which they are extracted, and there are large factories for making cod-liver oil, not only at the Loföddens, +but also at other places on the coast. At Hammerfest, which boasts of being the northernmost town in the world, the whole +air is laden with the nauseous fumes issuing from the steaming caldrons of boiling cod-liver oil. + +</p> +<p>The fish trade of Norway is not, however, confined to cod and the Lofödden Isles, for in many other parts fishing is the chief +industry of the people, and hundreds of thousands of barrels of salted herrings and sprats leave the country every year, while +sardines and anchovies are tinned or potted in the factories at Stavanger and other large seaports. The salmon, also, for +which the Norwegian rivers are famous, are brought over to England packed in ice, and well repay the owners of the rivers. + +</p> +<p>Even in the depth of winter a good deal of sea fishing goes on through the ice of the frozen fjords. The fisherman erects +a shelter of some kind to protect him from the biting wind, and within view of this he breaks two or three holes in the thick +ice. In each hole his baited hooks are dropped down, the other end of the line being fastened to a simple contrivance of pieces +of stick, which begin to waggle when a fish is hooked. On the Christiania Fjord numbers of these sporting fishermen are to +be seen at work all through the winter, and judging by the frequency of their visits to their different holes, they must take +a quantity of fish. It is cold work, however, sitting and watching for the signal to come from the hole, and one cannot help +admiring the men’s energy and keenness. + +</p> +<p>It is only natural that, living in a country where fish <a id="d0e502"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e502">15</a>]</span>is so plentiful, the people themselves should be great fish-eaters, and the daily fish-markets at Bergen and other places +on the coast are most interesting sights. As a rule the fish are brought to market alive in half-sunken canoes, towed astern +of the fishing-boats, and at Bergen all the bargaining is done between the buyers on the quayside and the sellers in their +boats. + +</p> +<p>In proportion to the population the variety of occupations in Norway is certainly great, and there are other industries besides +those already mentioned. There is, for example, a considerable trade in skins and furs, in condensed milk, butter, and margarine, +and in certain minerals and chemicals. Employment is found also for many men on the railways—in road-making, in boat and shipbuilding, +in timber-dressing, in mechanical engineering, in slate-quarrying, in stone-cutting, and in mining (principally in the silver +mines at Köngsberg). + +</p> +<p>It would seem, therefore, as if there were plenty of work for the Norwegians to do, and they are willing workers. Abject poverty, +as we know the term, has no place in Norway at present, for the country can support its people, thanks, perhaps, to the fact +that the desire to emigrate to America and Canada is strong. + + + + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e509" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p16.jpg" alt="Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage Interior" width="527" height="720"><p class="figureHead">Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage Interior</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e554" class="typeref">19</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e519" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter IV</h2> +<h2 class="normal">On the Farm</h2> +<p>Norway is not like England, where nearly every bit of ground is cultivated, for nothing will grow on bare rocks, and a good +deal of Norway is barren land. In fact, except in the low country down in the south, the <a id="d0e526"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e526">16</a>]</span>only land worth cultivating lies, as a rule, in the valleys near the fjords. There are situated all the farms, sometimes with +small orchards of apples and cherries, but more often with potato plots, a little corn, and a great amount of grassland. As +the mountains are always so close at hand, the fields are generally strewn with rocks and boulders, and are very uneven, so +haymaking is not easy, and such a thing as a mowing-machine would be quite useless. + +</p> +<p>Every blade of grass that can be gathered has to be made into hay, otherwise the ponies and cows would starve in the winter, +as they are often snowed up for weeks at a time. Haymaking is, therefore, a great business, and the amount of grass which +the Norwegians contrive to scrape off their land is marvellous. At the best of times it only grows to a height of about six +inches, but scythes and reaping-hooks find their way into every nook and corner, and grass that no English farmer would trouble +to cut is all raked in with the greatest care. Parties go up the mountain-sides to ledges of the cliffs, and on to the tops +of the mountains, to make sure that nothing is wasted, the grass being brought down to the farms to be dried. + +</p> +<p>Long wires may be seen stretching from the valleys away up, thousands of feet, to the tops of the mountains, and on these +the bundles of grass are tied, to come swirling down to the farmstead. There is no time in the short Northern summer to make +the hay as we make it, and there is usually so much rain that the grass would never dry at all if left lying on the ground; +so long hurdles are put up in positions where they will catch the sun and the wind, and on <a id="d0e532"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e532">17</a>]</span>them the grass is hung up to dry, there remaining until it has made itself into hay. Afterwards it is stored in covered barns +ready for winter use. + +</p> +<p>The corn, also, is dried in a peculiar manner. As it is cut it is made up into small sheaves, a number of these being tied, +ears downwards, to a pole planted upright in the ground. This makes drying rapid, and, if wet weather sets in, the rain runs +off freely. A field of these wheat-stacks has a very odd appearance at a little distance, and near the woods one sees similar, +though somewhat larger, stacks of branches and leaves, on which the goats are fed in the winter. + +</p> +<p>Directly the snow has melted off the mountains the flocks and herds are sent up to the highland pastures (sæters), usually +in charge of the younger women and girls of the farm, and there, throughout the summer, the dairy work is carried on. As in +all mountainous countries, rich and sweet herbage follows the melting of the snow, and the cows and goats give an abundance +of good milk, which is turned into butter and cheese, to be sold or consumed in the winter. Life at the sæter-hut, or mountain +farm, is healthy and delightful, though much hard work has to be got through each day. + +</p> +<p>Children seldom go to the sæters until old enough to be able to do real work, but one often sees a girl of fourteen or so +looking after a flock of goats. She will be out with them all day as they feed on the mountain-sides, and will do all the +milking. When seen for the first time this is rather an amusing operation, and decidedly a practical one. The milkmaid seizes +a goat, straddles her, with face towards the goat’s tail, and, stooping down, proceeds to milk. From a little <a id="d0e540"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e540">18</a>]</span>distance all you see is the goat’s hind-legs emerging from beneath a blue petticoat, which looks most peculiar. + +</p> +<p>But the children who are too young to spend the summer at the sæters find plenty to do at home, and they learn almost as soon +as they can toddle that there is work for everyone. Quite small boys and girls manage to do a good day’s haymaking, and they +can row a boat or drive a <i>carriole</i> before they have reached their teens. Such things they regard as amusements, for they have few other ways of amusing themselves, +and their one ambition is to do what their fathers and mothers do. + +</p> +<p>In some cases the small farmers move their whole families up to the mountain pastures for the summer; and, in addition to +the dairy work, they rent the fishing on some of the mountain lakes, which they net freely. The trout thus caught are split +open and salted down in barrels, eventually being sent down to the markets in the towns, where they fetch a good price. And +all these peasants possess rifles, and are keen sportsmen, so that when August comes they go in pursuit of the wild reindeer, +and lay up a store of meat, which, salted and dried, comes in very handy in the hard times of winter. + +</p> +<p>As a rule the peasants eat very little meat, and what they do eat has probably been smoked and dried and hung up for several +months. A good deal of salt fish is consumed; but the principal food is porridge (<i lang="no">gröd</i>), made of barley, rye, or oatmeal, and eaten generally with sour buttermilk, with the addition of potatoes, when plentiful. +White bread is not found far from the towns, and the black, or rye, bread is a heavy compound, a taste for which takes an +Englishman some <a id="d0e554"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e554">19</a>]</span>time to acquire. But even that is superior to the <i lang="no">fladbröd</i>, which in appearance and consistency resembles old boot-leather. + +</p> +<p>The well-to-do farmer lives more sumptuously. He occasionally has fresh meat and fresh fish, and the dried articles nearly +every day. He also indulges in cheese, usually of the commoner kind, known as <i lang="no">prim</i>, or <i lang="no">mysost</i>, which is not unlike brown Windsor soap. There are two other native cheeses, but they are considered somewhat expensive luxuries. +They are called <i lang="no">gammelost</i> and <i lang="no">pultost</i>, and are made from sour skimmed milk, being afterwards kept in a dark cellar for a year or so to ripen. The latter is the +greater delicacy, and is stored, in a sloppy state, in wooden tubs. If you should ever chance to see one of the tubs being +produced, do not wait to see it opened, or your nose will never forget it! + +</p> +<p>Verily, winter is the bugbear of the struggling Norwegian countryman’s existence. Like the provident ant, he spends the greater +part of the summer in laying up for the winter, and he has not only himself and his family to think of, but also his cattle, +for if the latter cannot be properly housed and fed he will be ruined. There are times, however, when he contrives to throw +off the constant thought of the future, and when he can enjoy himself thoroughly. Sunday is a day of rest, with possibly a +long row across the fjord to church, after which comes a good gossip with the neighbours, and the chance of a feast at a friend’s +farm. There are also high-days and holidays, weddings and christenings, accompanied by plentiful food and drink, as well as +by dancing and fiddling. +<a id="d0e575"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e575">20</a>]</span></p> +<p>But when the snow covers up the country the days are none too exciting, though the cattle have to be fed and many odd jobs +attended to. Most of the men are handy carpenters, and can make such things as dairy utensils, while the women in many parts +weave sufficient cloth to keep the whole family clothed. By the younger men, however, the season is looked forward to as a +time of real enjoyment. Then it is that they get out their snowshoes and enter with zest into the grand sport of ski-ing, +or, taking their guns with them, go off on their ski to shoot ryper or hares for the market. + +</p> +<p>Such is the life of the ordinary small farmer and peasant; but down by the fjords and on the beaten track of the foreign tourists +the larger farmer has grasped the situation, and has discovered the value of having more than one string to his bow. So in +summer he combines hotel-keeping with farming. His farm produce is consumed in his hotel, and if he is fortunate enough to +have a salmon river flowing through his land, he can be certain of a good rent for it. Thus the prosperous farmer becomes +a person of some importance in the district, and one day, perhaps, a Member of the Storthing, or Parliament. + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e580" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter V</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Manners and Customs</h2> +<p>The religion of the country is the Lutheran, almost in its original form, for in some matters the Norwegians are most conservative. +Though not, perhaps, <a id="d0e587"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e587">21</a>]</span>what we would consider a religious-minded people, they are naturally good, honest, and kind, and they take their religion +on trust. They pay tithes, and give Easter and Christmas offerings to their clergy willingly, since they regard the priest +as a superior person, and hold him in high esteem. He is a man, like his fellows, and farms his own land, which appeals to +the people in the country parts. Moreover, he is possessed of learning, and away from the towns he is mainly responsible for +the national education. + +</p> +<p>Often the journey to church is long, for the farms lie far apart, and when the church is distant ponies or boats are brought +into requisition for the conveyance of, at any rate, the women and children. Down by the fjord on a fine Sunday morning the +sight of the boats crossing over to a church is a picturesque one. Deep laden with men, women, and children, they come one +after another; and when they reach the shore, the women take their clean white head-dresses and gay kerchiefs out of the compact +little <i lang="no">tiner</i> (oval chip-wood boxes), and finish their toilets before going up to the church. + +</p> +<p>The Norwegian Sabbath begins on Saturday evening and ends at noon on Sunday, after which time the day is spent in simple enjoyment +as a true holiday. Then in the evening the boats start for home, and across the still waters one may hear the women singing +glees, as often as not to the accompaniment of the fiddle. + +</p> +<p>A wedding causes quite as much interest and excitement in Norway as it does in England, and in the olden time the festivities +lasted for a week or more. Nowadays the merry-making has been somewhat curtailed, <a id="d0e598"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e598">22</a>]</span>but the actual ceremony has lost none of its solemnity and little of its brightness. In the towns civilization has robbed +the wedding of its picturesqueness. The men are clothed in their best “blacks,” as if going to a funeral, and the ladies wear +dresses of Parisian style. But away in the depths of the country one may still see a real Norwegian wedding, with the bride +and bridesmaids, if not also most of the guests, dressed in the national costume, and it is a pretty sight. + +</p> +<p>In front comes a <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i>, the pony being led by the master of the ceremonies. On the seat sits the bride in the full dress of the country, and wearing +her bridal crown; by her side the bridegroom, also well adorned for the occasion; and, on the step of the cart, that most +important person, the fiddler, working his bow with astounding energy. If the pony can bear the weight, perhaps a couple of +the bride’s relations will sit up behind, otherwise they will walk in the procession which follows; and there may be seen +all the available peasants of the district—young men and maidens, grandfathers and grandchildren. + +</p> +<p>So they wend their way to the church; and after the service, if the good old customs be kept up, the party proceeds to a green +close by and enjoys a boisterous dance until it is time to go on to the wedding supper. Feasting and merry-making then continue +for several hours—in fact, the sleepiness of the guests is the only thing that breaks up the entertainment for the night. +Next day the festivities are resumed, and are possibly carried on into a third day. The fiddler is always busy, for without +him there can be no real fun, the <a id="d0e607"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e607">23</a>]</span>people’s love of music being no less than their love of dancing. + +</p> +<p>The violin is the one instrument which they know and understand, and it has been in use among the Norwegians for hundreds +of years. Their most famous violin-player, Ole Bull, who died some few years ago, was looked on as a great composer and musician. +But all over the country there are to be found men who can play after a fashion; and a century or so ago, when the people +were still very superstitious, they fully believed that anyone who could play at all well had had intercourse with the fairies, +who were supposed to be marvellous musicians and acquainted with an immense variety of beautiful tunes. + +</p> +<p>The food provided at a peasant’s wedding feast is, of course, something out of the common, and the guests are supposed to +bring a present of something good to eat, such as fresh meat, butter, old cream, cream porridge, or cheese, for the ordinary +fare of the country folk is, as we have said, of the plainest. + +</p> +<p>With regard to the national costume, mentioned above, it is, unfortunately, a fact that it is gradually disappearing. There +are parts, however, where there are no railways, no steamboats, and few tourists, and in such places the people still live +much as they did a hundred years ago, even the men wearing clothes similar to those worn by their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, +and some of these are quaint in the extreme. + +</p> +<p>Perhaps the quaintest dresses are those of the people of Sætersdal, a district in the South of Norway, between Christiansand +and Telemarken; and, when properly <a id="d0e617"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e617">24</a>]</span>turned out, the men are quite as “dressy” as the women. They wear a pair of trousers buttoned with half a dozen silver buttons +tight round the ankles, and coming right up to the armpits. Several broad stripes adorn the legs from top to bottom. And the +coat takes the form of a curious little cape, richly embroidered with silver, and having sleeves, fastened at the wrists with +more silver buttons. Shoes, with buckles, white stockings, and a cut-down tall hat, gaily decorated with ribbons and embroidery, +complete the costume. The women wear short skirts—only a little below the knees—of dark blue, with a bright trimming round +the bottom; coloured stockings; a bodice laced with silver, and covered with silver brooches and other ornaments; a waistbelt, +which is sometimes entirely of metal; a kerchief tied over the head, after the fashion of the bandana of West Indian negresses; +and on occasions a shawl of many colours. + +</p> +<p>A step farther north, in what is called Lower Telemarken, a similar kind of dress still exists, though the man’s waistcoat-jacket +is of a somewhat different pattern and colour, and the women wear their skirts a trifle longer. On Sundays and great occasions +the latter also put on cloth stockings and gloves, embroidered tastefully with trails of flowers. + +</p> +<p>But such dresses as these are not the national costume of Norway. For that we have to go still farther north—to the Hardanger. +If an English girl wishes to dress a doll as a typical Norwegian, the clothes would be those of the Hardanger, and they would +be these: a dark blue serge skirt (to the ankles), trimmed with black velvet and silver braid; a <a id="d0e623"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e623">25</a>]</span>white chemisette with full sleeves; a red flannel bodice embroidered with white, black, and silver, and glittering with brass +saucer-shaped ornaments; and a waistbelt adorned with metal buttons. The effect is neat, bright, and decidedly piquant. The +girls plait their fair hair in two long tails, wearing a handkerchief as a head-dress; but the married women have a most elaborate +coiffure, something of the sister-of-mercy type, consisting of the so-called <i lang="no">skaut</i>, or hood, and the <i lang="no">lin</i>, or forehead band. It takes a considerable time to put on, as the snow-white linen has to be most carefully stretched over +a frame, which is first fastened on the top of the head, and then so arranged that the numerous small plaits hang in a particular +manner. This is the ordinary head-dress, though the country women coming in to church on Sundays often wear curious old-fashioned +bonnets, which have the appearance of being heirlooms handed down from generation to generation. + +</p> +<p>The men do not dress up to the women. They confine themselves to a rough trouser suit, generally of dark blue, and a black +felt hat. Even amongst the older men of the Hardanger one seldom sees the knee-breeches and stockings which used to be worn. + + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e634" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p25.jpg" alt="A Hardanger Bride" width="529" height="720"><p class="figureHead">A Hardanger Bride</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e598" class="typeref">22</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e644" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter VI</h2> +<h2 class="normal">School and Play</h2> +<p>I am not certain whether Norse boys and girls are very good, or whether they are spoilt. You may travel all day on a steamer +with a well-to-do family from the <a id="d0e651"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e651">26</a>]</span>town, or you may live in a farmhouse with a peasant’s family for a month, and the chances are that you will never hear the +parents say “Don’t.” One thing I am sure of: the children who live in the country parts do very much as they please; in the +summer they go to bed when they feel tired, sometimes not till nearly midnight; and they are not worried about getting their +boots and their clothes wet, because no Norwegian troubles his or her head about such matters. Moreover, the life is such +a simple one that perhaps there is little opportunity for real naughtiness. + +</p> +<p>These country children have a very easy time, as for the greater part of the year they have no school to go to, and they spend +all the summer out in the open air, looking after the ponies, cows, sheep, or goats, or hay-making, or rowing about, or fishing, +or something of the kind. In the winter they, as well as the town children, are all obliged to go to school, from the age +of seven to fourteen or fifteen—<i>i.e.,</i> until their Confirmation, and until this takes place they receive religious instruction from the priest on Sunday afternoons, +for there is no religious teaching in the schools. + +</p> +<p>There is a great difficulty about the country schools, because in some districts the farms are miles and miles apart, and +it would be quite impossible for the children to walk to school and back in the day. In such districts the Government schoolmasters +have to go about from place to place, and teach the children in their own homes. If there should be two or three farms close +together, one of the farmers provides a schoolroom in his house, and the schoolmaster lives with him as his guest for a time, +and then goes on to another house. <a id="d0e660"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e660">27</a>]</span>But the schoolmasters must give every child twelve weeks’ schooling in the year. This does not amount to a great deal—only +three months of school in the year! + +</p> +<p>The wonder is that the children contrive to remember anything that they have learned, with nine long months in which to forget +it. Yet they work hard while they are about it; they are inspected every year, and they are required to pass quite difficult +examinations at the end. It is expected, however, that before long the twelve weeks’ compulsory schooling will be increased +to fifteen weeks. + +</p> +<p>In the towns the children are not forced to attend school for more than the twelve weeks in the year, but there are, of course, +numbers of private schools, high schools, etc., to which parents can send their children, on payment, for a superior education. +And at such schools the work goes on for a much longer period of the year—in fact, all through the year, except for two months +in the summer and a week at Christmas and at Easter. + +</p> +<p>It is all much the same as our own arrangements in England. There is the Government school, where the education is free, and +there are other schools, where a higher education is paid for. But the compulsory schooling does not end with the seven years +at the Government schools referred to above, for there are continuation schools, at which the pupils have to put in a further +twenty-four weeks. + +</p> +<p>In Norway there are no large public schools for boarders, so, in spite of their long holidays, the children do not have half +the fun that English boys and girls <a id="d0e670"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e670">28</a>]</span>have. There is no cricket, football, hockey, golf, or any game of that sort, and there is not a racquet-, fives-, or tennis-court +in the land. How then, you will ask, do they manage to amuse themselves? + +</p> +<p>It must be remembered that the winter is much longer in Norway than it is with us, and even if the boys wanted to play football +they would not be able to do so, as the ground is covered with snow. At that season they have their various winter sports +to keep them busy—ski-ing, skating, tobogganing, and the like, and they do not require any other games. In the summer, instead +of playing cricket, they go for walking tours into the mountains, or they go fishing in the rivers and lakes, or sometimes +shooting. + +</p> +<p>Though the Norwegians boast that ball games have been played in the country since Saga times, such games are of the most elementary +kind, and would be scorned by any English boy. But for all that the Norse boys are every bit as manly as any other boys, because +they enjoy many forms of sport which make them so; and they are strong, because they take plenty of exercise, and have physical +drill in their schools. + +</p> +<p>This brings us to other games played by Norwegian children—not the games which are purchased in the shops in Christiania, +Bergen, and other towns, but the games which are played without any of the bought things. Of course the girls have dolls and +dolls’ houses and dolls’ tea-parties, like the girls of every land, and there are toys of every description in the shops. +The peasant children, however, who live far out in the country, never see a shop, and have to provide themselves with things +to play with; but it is wonderful <a id="d0e678"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e678">29</a>]</span>what an amount of amusement they can get out of an old bone, or a block of wood, tied to a yard or two of string. + +</p> +<p>As a rule their fathers are good hands at carving wood, so toys are easily made for the smaller children, and one finds everywhere +such simple toys as wooden dolls, animals, miniature boats, sleighs, and carts. + +</p> +<p>But the real enjoyment of the Norwegian children—at any rate of the girls—is the outdoor game, played when the weather is +fine, both in the town and in the country, wherever there are enough children to make a game. To see a bevy of these quaint +little girls throwing heart and soul into their games is delightful, and they have scores and scores of different ones. In +most of them dancing and singing play a great part, and the most popular form of game is what is called a “Ring Dance,” in +which, as the name implies, the players join hands and dance round in a circle. + +</p> +<p>Many of these ring dances have their counterpart in English games, and the tunes and words sung to them are almost similar. +Whether we adopted them from the Norwegians, or they adopted them from us, is a matter which will probably never be decided, +but several games of this kind are common to all Europe. “Blind Man’s Buff,” “Hunt the Slipper,” and “Forfeits,” for instance, +are found nearly everywhere. Here is the Norse version of “Round and round the Mulberry Bush,” which in some parts is called +“The Washing-Maids’ Dance,” and in others “Round the Juniper Bush”: + +<a id="d0e686"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e686">30</a>]</span></p> +<div class="
 poem
 "> +<p class="line" style=""><span>“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush, +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning. +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes, +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="
 poem
 "> +<p class="line" style=""><span>“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush, +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning. +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning.”</span></p> +</div> +<p>The washing operations proceed through the next three days of the week, with a verse to each day. Thus on Wednesday they hang +up the clothes, on Thursday they mangle them, and on Friday iron them. Then on Saturday they scrub the floor, and on Sunday +go to church. + +</p> +<p>With each verse the children dance hand in hand round the imaginary juniper bush, singing lustily, and illustrating the different +actions of the washing operations. Finally, two and two and arm in arm, they promenade round, as if going to church, and generally +prolong the walk while they sing the last verse a second time. + +</p> +<p>Another very favourite game is <i lang="no">Slængkompas</i>, which is perhaps best translated almost literally as Scatter-Compass. It is a rapid game, and full of excitement. The players +grasp hands in a circle and gallop round, singing the refrain as they go: + + +</p> +<div class="
 poem
 "> +<p class="line" style=""><span>“Those who would join in <i lang="no">Slængkompas</i> must be tolerably quick! +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>One—two—three—and four—and five. +</span></p> +<p class="line" style=""><span>So comes <i lang="no">Slængkompas</i> again.”</span></p> +</div><a id="d0e727"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e727">31</a>]</span><p>When the counting begins the players let go hands, and, clapping to the tune, spin round separately until the word “five” +is reached, when they should be in position ready to join hands again and continue to gallop round in the original circle. + +</p> +<p>The aim of the game is to keep things going until the verse has been sung three times, but, of course, the players often become +giddy and lose their places. + +</p> +<p>There is not space to describe more of these ring dances here, but there are many of them, and a great many which our English +children would do well to adopt. + +</p> +<p>Our good old street game of “Hop-scotch” you may see played almost anywhere in Norway under the somewhat curious name of “Hop-in-Paradise,” +while in some parts “Cat’s Cradle,” though a milder form of amusement, is quite popular, and a large variety of figures is +known. + +</p> +<p>Then the girls are very fond of dressing up as brides, with crowns and all, and having a mock wedding, with its accompanying +procession and dancing. Above all things they love dancing, and their fathers and grandfathers play the fiddle for them for +many an hour of a winter’s evening, while the mothers sing nursery rhymes to the smaller children. And, as with the games, +these jingles are more or less the same as our own. They have “This is the house that Jack built,” with the malt, and the +rat, and everything, only that they prefer the name Jacob to Jack. They have “Fly away, Peter, fly away, Paul”; and the baby +on his mother’s knee has the joy of being shaken about to “This is the way the farmer rides, bumpety-bumpety-bump.” + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e739" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p32.jpg" alt="A Baby of Telemarken" width="530" height="720"><p class="figureHead">A Baby of Telemarken</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e670" class="typeref">28</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + +<a id="d0e749"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e749">32</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<div id="d0e750" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter VII</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Some Fairy Tales</h2> +<p>Norwegian children are just as fond of fairy stories as are any other children, and they are lucky in having a great number, +for that famous story-teller, Hans Christian Andersen, was a Dane, and as the Danish language is very like the Norwegian, +his stories were probably known in Norway long before they were known in England. But the Norwegians have plenty of other +stories of their own, and they love to sit by the fire of burning logs or round the stove in the long winter evenings and +listen to them. Of course, they know all about people like Cinderella and Jack the Giant-Killer, but their favourite hero +is called by the name of Ashpot, who is sometimes a kind of boy Cinderella and sometimes a Jack the Giant-Killer. + +</p> +<p>The following are two stories which the little yellow-haired Norse children gloat over: + +</p> +<p>Once upon a time there was a man who had been out cutting wood, and when he came home he found that he had left his coat behind, +so he told his little daughter to go and fetch it. The child started off, but before she reached the wood darkness came on, +and suddenly a great big hill-giant swooped down upon her. + +</p> +<p>“Please, Mr. Giant,” said she, trembling all over, “don’t take me away to-night, as father wants his coat; but to-morrow night, +if you will come when I go to the <i lang="no">stabbur</i> to fetch the bread, I will go away with you quite quietly.” +<a id="d0e766"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e766">33</a>]</span></p> +<p>So the giant agreed, and the next night, when she went to fetch the bread, he came and carried her off. As soon as it was +found that she was missing, her father sent her eldest brother to look for her, but he came back without finding her. The +second brother was also sent, but with no better result. At last the father turned to his youngest son, who was the drudge +of the house, and said: “Now, Ashpot, you go and see if you can find your sister.” + +</p> +<p>So away went Ashpot, and no sooner had he reached the wood than he met a bear. + +</p> +<p>“Friend bear,” said Ashpot, “will you help me?” + +</p> +<p>“Willingly,” answered the bear. “Get up on my back.” + +</p> +<p>And Ashpot mounted the bear’s back and rode off. Presently they met a wolf. + +</p> +<p>“Friend wolf,” said Ashpot, “will you do some work for me ?” + +</p> +<p>“Willingly,” answered the wolf. + +</p> +<p>“Then jump up behind,” said Ashpot, and the three went on deeper into the wood. + +</p> +<p>They next met a fox, and then a hare, both of whom were enlisted into Ashpot’s service, and, mounted on the back of the bear, +were swiftly carried off to the giant’s abode. + +</p> +<p>“Good-day, Mr. Giant!” said they. + +</p> +<p>“Scratch my back!” roared the giant, who lay stretched in front of the fire warming himself. + +</p> +<p>The hare immediately climbed up and began to scratch as desired; but the giant knocked him over, and down he fell on to the +hearth-stone, breaking off his fore-legs, since which time all hares have had short fore-legs. +<a id="d0e791"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e791">34</a>]</span></p> +<p>The fox next clambered up to scratch the giant’s back, but he was served like the hare. Then the wolf’s turn came, but the +giant said that he was no better at scratching than the others. + +</p> +<p>“<i>You</i> scratch me!” shouted the giant, turning impatiently to the bear. + +</p> +<p>“All right,” answered Bruin; “I know all about scratching,” and he forthwith dug his claws into the giant’s back and ripped +it into a thousand pieces. + +</p> +<p>Then all the beasts danced on the dead body of the monster, and Ashpot recovered his sister and took her home, carrying off, +at the same time, all the giant’s gold and silver. The bear and the wolf burst into the cattle-sheds and devoured all the +cows and sheep, the fox feasted in the henroost, while the hare had the free run of the oatfield. So everyone was satisfied. +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p>The other story is also about Ashpot, whose two elder brothers still treated him very badly, and eventually turned him out +of his home. Poor Ashpot wandered away up into the mountains, where he met a huge giant. At first he was terribly afraid, +but after a little while he told the giant what had happened to him, and asked him if he could find a job for him. + +</p> +<p>“You are just the very man I want,” said the giant. “Come along with me.” + +</p> +<p>The first work to be done was to make a fire to brew some ale, so they went off together to the forest to cut firewood. The +giant carried a club in place of an axe, and when they came to a large birch-tree he asked Ashpot whether he would like to +club the tree down or climb up and hold the top of it. The boy <a id="d0e811"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e811">35</a>]</span>thought that the latter would suit him best, and he soon got up to the topmost branches and held on to them. But the giant +gave the tree such a blow with his club as to knock it right out of the ground, sending Ashpot flying across the meadows into +a marsh. Luckily he landed on soft ground, and was none the worse for his adventure; and they soon managed to get the tree +home, when they set to work to make a fire. + +</p> +<p>But the wood was green, and would not burn, so the giant began to blow. At the first puff Ashpot found himself flying up to +the ceiling as if he had been a feather, but he managed to catch hold of a piece of birch-bark among the rafters, and on reaching +the ground again he told the giant that he had been up to get something to make the fire burn. + +</p> +<p>The fire was soon burning splendidly, and the giant commenced to brew the ale, drinking it off as fast as it was made. Ashpot +watched him getting gradually drunk, and heard him mutter to himself, “To-night I will kill him,” so he began to think of +a plan to outwit his master. When he went to bed he placed the giant’s cream-whisk between the sheets as a dummy, while he +himself crept under the bedstead. + +</p> +<p>In the middle of the night, just as he had expected, he heard the giant come into his room, and then there was a tremendous +whack as the giant brought his club down on to the bed. Next morning the boy came out of his room as if nothing had happened, +and his master was very much surprised to find him still alive. + +</p> +<p>“Hullo!” said the giant. “Didn’t you feel anything in the night?” +<a id="d0e821"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e821">36</a>]</span></p> +<p>“I did feel something,” said Ashpot; “but I thought that it was only a sausage-peg that had fallen on the bed, so I went to +sleep again.” + +</p> +<p>The giant was more astonished than ever, and went off to consult his sister, who lived in a neighbouring mountain, and was +about ten times his size. At length it was settled that the giantess should set her cooking-pot on the fire, and that Ashpot +should be sent to see her, when she was to tip him into the caldron and boil him. In the course of the day the giant sent +the boy off with a message to his sister, and when he reached the giantess’s dwelling he found her busy cooking. But he soon +saw through her design, and he took out of his pocket a nut with a hole in it. + +</p> +<p>“Look here,” he said, showing the nut to the ogress, “you think you can do everything. I will tell you one thing that you +can’t do: you can’t make yourself so small as to be able to creep into the hole in this nut.” + +</p> +<p>“Rubbish!” replied the giantess. “Of course I can!” + +</p> +<p>And in a moment she became as small as a fly, and crept into the nut, whereupon Ashpot hurled it into the fire, and that was +the end of the giantess. + +</p> +<p>The boy was so delighted that he returned to his old tyrant the giant and told him what had happened to his sister. This set +the big man thinking again as to how he was to rid himself of this sharp-witted little nuisance. He did not understand boys, +and he was afraid of Ashpot’s tricks, so he offered him as much gold and silver as he could carry if he would go away and +never return. Ashpot, however, replied that the amount he could carry would not be worth having, <a id="d0e834"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e834">37</a>]</span>and that he could not think of going unless he got as much as the giant could carry. + +</p> +<p>The giant, glad to get rid of him at any cost, agreed, and, loading himself with gold and silver and precious stones, he set +out with the boy towards his home. When they reached the outskirts of the farms they saw a herd of cattle, and the giant began +to tremble. + +</p> +<p>“What sort of beasts are these?” he asked. + +</p> +<p>“They are my father’s cows,” replied Ashpot, “and you had better put down your burden and run back to your mountain, or they +may bite you.” + +</p> +<p>The giant was only too happy to get away, so, depositing his load, which was as big as a small hill, he made off, and left +the boy to carry his treasure home by himself. + +</p> +<p>So enormous was the amount of the valuables that it was six years before Ashpot succeeded in removing everything from the +field where the giant had set it down; but he and all his relations were rich people for the rest of their lives. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e846" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter VIII</h2> +<h2 class="normal">The Hardanger Fjord</h2> +<p>All that is grand, all that is beautiful, will be found in the Hardanger—the “Smiling Hardanger,” as the Norwegians themselves +call it; and even if an English visitor went nowhere else, he would have seen typical Norwegian scenery of every possible +kind. + +</p> +<p>The easiest way to go there is from Bergen, and most people bent on a tour in Norway make a start either <a id="d0e855"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e855">38</a>]</span>from Christiania or from Bergen. Bergen itself claims to be the most beautiful town in the country, and it really is a lovely +spot, with its old wooden houses all around the harbour, full of picturesque shipping, and with its amphitheatre of bold mountains +rising upwards almost from the centre of the town. But Bergen has its drawbacks, and the principal one is that it rains every +day, or nearly every day. + +</p> +<p>To reach the Hardanger from Bergen, and to go from one end of the fjord to the other, you take a passage in one of the comfortable +little local steamers, and you begin your journey early in the morning. It is a very pleasant way of travelling, as you sit +on deck all day and enjoy the scenery, and only go down to the saloon at meal-times. If you do not wish to go all the way +to the very end of the fjord, there are numbers of pretty little places where you can break your journey. But if you like +you can travel throughout the day and finish up late at night at Odda, or at Vik-i-Eidfjord, each of which is at the head +of a branch of the Hardanger Fjord. + +</p> +<p>Let us take our tickets right through to Eidfjord, make a good long day of it, and see what there is to be seen. For some +little time after leaving the harbour we see nothing of great interest, only a few graceful-looking barges in full sail, reminding +us of the pictures of the old Viking ships, and flocks of seagulls fluttering and screaming round the stern of our boat. Then +the steamer begins to pick its way through the scattered islands, some of which are mere barren granite rocks, others partially +cultivated, and with neat little farmsteads lying snug in the valleys. +<a id="d0e861"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e861">39</a>]</span></p> +<p>So we go on for an hour or two, occasionally stopping off a small group of farms, to land, perhaps, a farmer returning from +the Bergen market, or a girl coming home from her situation in the town. Presently we come alongside a pier under an overhanging +cliff, and we see the name of the place written up on a board, just like the name of a railway-station. This is Godösund, +a favourite holiday haunt of the Bergen people. It is not a town or even a village, but just a châlet-like hotel of two or +three buildings, standing on the side of a fir-clad hill, in the midst of a fairyland of creeks and wooded islets—as pretty +a spot as one could wish to see. + +</p> +<p>Now we are nearing the Hardanger Fjord; we pass through the narrow straits known as the Löksund, and we enter the fjord. Glorious +and ever-changing views open out before us, as hour after hour the steamer passes from one small station to another, dropping +a mail-bag, and perhaps a passenger or two. We pass farms lying close to the shore, the wooden houses being in many cases +painted red or white, and thus forming a brilliant contrast to the blue-black mountains and dark green forests which rise +up behind them. We see every now and then a clean white wooden church, and, away up on the mountain-sides we can discern tiny +specks, which, we are told, are the sæter dwellings. + +</p> +<p>Sometimes the steamer is out in the middle of the fjord, which, in parts, is five miles or more in width, but at other times +we find ourselves close in to a rocky precipice, and wondering how it will be possible to avoid grounding. Above us the mountain-side +rises perpendicularly to a height of, it may be, 3,000 or <a id="d0e868"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e868">40</a>]</span>4,000 feet; and, looking down into the clear water, we can see that it is ever so deep. As a matter of fact, the chart tells +us that hereabouts it is a little more than 2,000 feet in depth. + +</p> +<p>Soon we reach the bay in which is Rosendal, where one could spend a very pleasant week or so, with trout fishing to be had +in the streams and lakes, and mountain walks up to the edge of the great Folgefond snowfield. The steamer calls for a few +minutes, and then goes on up the beautiful little branch fjord known as the Mauranger, at the extremity of which lies Sundal. + +</p> +<p>The scenery here is delightful, and especially so at the spot where the Bondhus Valley is seen stretching down to the fjord. +Half-way up the valley a round-topped mountain appears to bar the way, and farther off a blue-grey glacier—the Bondhus Bræ—is +seen falling from the white snowfield, and choking the head of the vale. + +</p> +<p>Those who have the mind to do so can wander up to the glacier, sleep the night at a sæter, and on the following day hire a +sleigh, and career for miles over the vast field of perpetual snow, right across the headland to Odda. And great is the joy +of plunging suddenly, on a hot August day, into the depths of winter. + +</p> +<p>But our steamer does not stay here long—only long enough to put some Norwegian passengers on shore, and take fresh ones on +board. This occupies some time, however, for Norse people, and especially the ladies, refuse to be hurried. It is amusing +to watch them starting on their travels. All their friends come to see them off, although it is quite possible that the traveller +is only going to the next station on the fjord, <a id="d0e878"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e878">41</a>]</span>not a dozen miles away. Each friend bears some small package—a pot of cranberry jam, a basket of apples or cherries, a bag +of cakes, or something of that kind. The gaily-painted wooden trunks and the <i lang="no">tiners</i> are stowed away on board; and then the “farvels” commence, with kisses and handshakes, and pats on the back, and many last +words until the bell rings for the steamer’s departure, when a lady passenger suddenly discovers that she has left something +behind. The wildest confusion follows, and away run all the friends to fetch it from the house, returning just in time. Then +the good-byes begin again, and as the steamer finally departs, everyone shouts, “Farvel! farvel! farvel!” frequently and rapidly; +hats are raised, and handkerchiefs continue waving until the boat can no longer be seen. + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e884" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p41.jpg" alt="Godösund, Hardanger Fjord" width="720" height="499"><p class="figureHead">Godösund, Hardanger Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e861" class="typeref">39</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + +</p> +<p>Returning down the Mauranger Fjord we steam out across the main fjord, and early in the afternoon call at several small places +on the northern shore—Bakke, Vikingnæs, Nordheimsund—each with its spruce hotel, enticing the traveller to loiter and explore +the country in the neighbourhood. A little later we enter the Fiksensund, a narrow branch fjord, and a wonder of wonders. +For a distance of seven miles it wends its way amongst the mountains. In places the precipitous hillsides are within a hundred +yards of each other, and in no part is this extraordinary fjord-arm a third of a mile in width. For thousands of feet sheer +out of the water rise the bold walls of granite, with here and there a ledge thickly wooded with fir and birch. It looks as +if the mountains had been torn asunder to admit the sea, and local legends say that a spiteful giantess did this and many +other nasty things in the giant age. Half-way <a id="d0e896"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e896">42</a>]</span>up the fjord the steamer fires a gun, so that the passengers may hear the echo, and the sound comes back time after time from +every nook and cranny. At the end is Botnen, with a road running away north to other farms, and eventually to the railway +from Bergen to Vossevangen. + +</p> +<p>Again we return to the main fjord, and before long enter the Gravensfjord, wherein lies Eide, a kind of junction of the steamer-routes, +and a very touristy place, as there is a good driving-road to Voss. The Bergen steamer continues its way up the Sörfjord to +Odda, which is reached late at night; but we, who are bound for Eidfjord, change into a small branch steamer, and are soon +rounding a mighty headland, and, if there is any wind, getting a tossing for a few minutes, the fjord just here being wide +and open. The head of a seal may occasionally be seen bobbing up and down, and large flocks of duck are always swimming about +at a respectful distance from the steamer. And what a view we have across the expanse of water! The never-ending mountains +stretch away one behind the other, to be crowned in the distance by the dazzling white snowfield, lighted up by the fast sinking +sun. + +</p> +<p>And when the sun goes down the scenery, as we steam on, changes each moment. In the twilight the granite cliffs stand out +black and uninviting, and the country looks cold and grey. It may be that we are tired of the long journey, for with the growing +darkness comes the feeling that something to eat and bed would be pleasant things. Then the steamer’s whistle makes us spring +to our feet, and, peering ahead, we see lights on the Vik jetty and in the hotel close by. In a <a id="d0e902"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e902">43</a>]</span>few minutes we are in Næsheim’s comfortable dining-room, enjoying our well-deserved supper after a day of days on Norway’s +most glorious fjord. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e904" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter IX</h2> +<h2 class="normal">A Glimpse of the Fjelds</h2> +<p>“Fjeld-weather” is the Norwegian term for fine, warm, bright days. It implies that the weather is suitable for a tour on the +mountains. But, alas! it is not the weather that is always encountered there, for even in the summer the climate of the high +plateau is ever varying, and though there may be a long spell of fine, hot weather, with a glorious crisp air, yet at any +moment a change of the wind may bring a week of soaking rain, sleet, possibly snow, and a fall of temperature by twenty degrees. +That is no time for the fjelds, and the traveller is better off in a fjordside hotel. + +</p> +<p>Given fine weather, there is no more splendid touring ground than the highlands of Norway, where, at a height of anything +up to 4,000 or 5,000 feet above the sea, stretch thousands of square miles of wild and uninhabited moorland, cut up with numerous +large lakes, and clothed only with a dwarf vegetation. Such parts usually lie off the beaten track, and to reach them means +an expedition—heavy, uphill walking for two or three days, with the baggage carried on the backs of ponies. + +</p> +<p>If you were going to undertake an expedition to these high fjelds, you would probably make a start <a id="d0e915"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e915">44</a>]</span>from the lowlands by following some well-worn track leading to a sæter. In nine cases out of ten the track will be running +by the side of a river, at first wide and flowing lazily through the valley, but soon narrowing, until its upper waters become +a rushing mountain torrent, swishing between mighty boulders. After a while you find that the path gradually begins to ascend +by zigzags up the mountain-side, and the scenery, whenever you pause to look down, is magnificent. In time you reach the upland +pastures, with here and there a sæter-dwelling, and this is the end of the first stage of your journey, for you probably will +have climbed some 2,000 feet and walked a dozen miles or more. Thus you will be glad enough to accept the hospitality offered +to you by the simple peasants. + +</p> +<p>All these sæter-huts are much alike, though, of course, they vary in size and in the way in which they are fitted up; but +as they are only occupied during the summer months, luxurious fittings are not considered a necessity. The outer walls are +constructed of fir-trunks, let into one another at the corners on the log-hut principle, and the interior is lined with boarding. +In some parts, however, where timber is scarce the buildings are of stone. + +</p> +<p>The roof consists of rough planks, on which is placed a layer of birch-bark to fill in the cracks; and on the top, again, +are laid sods of earth to a thickness of about a foot. Grass and weeds soon cover the roof, binding it together and keeping +the rain out. + +</p> +<p>The door opens into a dark hall or chamber, which serves as a receptacle for rubbish of all kinds—fishing-nets, tools, skins, +empty milk-pans, and the like; and <a id="d0e923"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e923">45</a>]</span>in the corner is a roughly-built fireplace for boiling the milk and for cooking. On one side of this hall is the door into +the sole living apartment, which possesses a window at one end, and against one of the side walls a couple of bunks, wherein +three or four dairymaids sleep. + +</p> +<p>Sometimes there is a separate room, or even a detached hut, for the dairy work; but there is generally only the one room, +the milk being set in large, shallow wooden vessels on a number of shelves fixed against one of the walls. Everything is scrupulously +clean, and the cattle women are working hard all the long daylight hours. Periodically a man from the farm in the lowlands +comes up to the sæter with a couple of ponies and takes down butter and cheese, and such visits are the only excitement in +sæter-life. + +</p> +<p>If you have time to linger here for a day or two you will be made welcome, and you will find plenty to interest you. The views +down into the deep valleys and away to the fjords in the distance are always delightful, and there may be a stream with pools +holding trout worth trying for. The tiny rivulets which trickle down from the hills are lined with ferns and forget-me nots, +and elsewhere may be seen flowers of every hue—red Alpine catchfly, blue meadow cranesbill, hawksweed, wild radis, and a score +of other pretty things. + +</p> +<p>But the greatest joy of all is the sight of a wide marsh covered with the delicious <i lang="no">multebær</i>, whose luscious, yellow fruit and gold-red leaves brighten the country-side. This is the cloudberry, found in Scotland and +in the North of England, and to come on a stretch of this fruit after a long, hot walk is a thing worth living for. <a id="d0e934"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e934">46</a>]</span>Besides this best of all Norse wild fruits, the fjelds produce many excellent berries, such as crowberries, whortleberries, +marsh whortleberries, bearberries, dewberries, cranberries, and others. The children of the country parts all over Norway +spend much of their time in feasting on these little fruits, and during the summer and autumn months their hands and faces +are generally well stained with the dark juice. + +</p> +<p>Upwards, beyond these pleasant pastures, when you have left behind the last sæter-shanty and the last thicket of birches, +you reach a world where, except for the scattered Tourist Club huts and their summer caretakers, you cannot count on coming +across either dwelling or human being. + +</p> +<p>Wandering far afield, you may meet a couple of Lapps with their herd of reindeer, and down by one of the tarns you may chance +on a rough stone shelter, inhabited for the time being by two Norwegian fishermen, whose nets are laid in the mountain lake. + +</p> +<p>All over this lofty wilderness the snow lies deep for several months of the year, but as soon as it begins to thaw it disappears +rapidly, when, as in Switzerland, Nature’s garden immediately blossoms forth in all its glory. It must be confessed, however, +that the carpet of Alpine flowers on the Norwegian high-fjelds cannot compare with that of Switzerland. On the great mountain +plateau of Norway everything gives way to the lichen-like reindeer moss, and the flowers are merely in patches, or growing +in masses only in those swampy parts where the moss does not thrive. + +</p> +<p>The fjelds furnish a recreation-ground for the Norwegian townsman. There he can lead the life that he <a id="d0e944"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e944">47</a>]</span>loves best, and one week of the wilds will set him up for the remainder of the year. Even though he cares nothing for shooting +or fishing, the sense of freedom as he does his daily tramp delights his soul. And his wife or his sister as often as not +will accompany him, for the Norwegian ladies are brave walkers, and know how to rough it. + +</p> +<p>But the majority of Norsemen are good sportsmen and good fishermen, and in most seasons there are plenty of fjeld-ryper to +be shot and good hauls of trout to be made in the mountain lakes and connecting streams. + +</p> +<p>But what is the country like up here on the very summit of everything? It is called a plateau; but that does not mean that +it is absolutely level, for, as a matter of fact, there is no part of it level enough to be made into a football ground. It +is all up and down, and every here and there are low hills, with occasionally great prominent, rounded mountain-tops, rising +to a height of 500 or 600 feet above the plateau. Then there are chains of lakes, often several miles in length, acres of +swampy ground in every direction, shallow ravines filled with a jumble of rocks and boulders, and constant sand mounds, partly +overgrown with grass and dwarf juniper. And up here are the snowfields, about which we shall have more to say presently. + +</p> +<p>It is all weird and wild and wonderful, and if there be no wind the silence is intense, and only broken by the bark of an +Arctic fox from some rocky hillside or by the plaintive call of a golden plover. + +</p> +<p>Why, it may be asked, should anyone wish to go to such a desolate place? Only to shoot or to fish, to <a id="d0e954"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e954">48</a>]</span>gather in a store of the purest air in the world, or perhaps to enjoy a period of calm and quiet solitude—world-forgetting, +by the world forgot. + + + + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e957" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p48.jpg" alt="A Sæter, Vetle Fjord" width="720" height="503"><p class="figureHead">A Sæter, Vetle Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e915" class="typeref">44</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e967" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter X</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Wild Nature—Beasts</h2> +<p>In a country like Norway, with its vast forests and waste moorlands, it is only natural to find a considerable variety of +animals and birds. Some of these are peculiar to Scandinavia. Some, though only occasionally met with in the British Isles, +are not rare in Norway; whilst others (more especially among the birds) are equally common in both countries. + +</p> +<p>There was a time when the people of England lived in a state of fear and dread of the ravages of wolves and bears, and the +Norwegians of the country districts even now have to guard their flocks and herds from these destroyers. Except in the forest +tracts of the Far North, however, bears are not numerous, but in some parts, even in the South, they are sufficiently so to +be a nuisance, and are ruthlessly hunted down by the farmers. As far as wolves are concerned civilization is, fortunately, +driving them farther afield each year, and only in the most out-of-the-way parts are they ever encountered nowadays. Stories +of packs of hungry wolves following in the wake of a sleigh are still told to the children in Norway, but they relate to bygone +times—half a century or more ago, and such wild excitements no longer enter into the Norsemen’s lives. + +</p> +<p>Yet less ferocious animals give the people trouble <a id="d0e978"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e978">49</a>]</span>enough, and amongst these may be mentioned the lynx and the wolverine, or glutton, each of which will make his supper off +a sheep or a goat if he gets the chance. Of the two the lynx is perhaps the worse poacher, and his proverbial sharpness renders +him difficult to catch. Not so the glutton, who, if he succeeds in crawling through a hole in the fence of a sheepfold, stuffs +himself so full that he cannot get out again. I think that most of us would rather be called lynx-eyed than gluttonous, and +certainly a lynx is a much handsomer beast than a glutton. + +</p> +<p>With the exception of the rabbit, all our English animals are found in Norway—the badger, fox, hare, otter, squirrel, hedgehog, +polecat, stoat, and the rest of them. But besides these there are little Arctic foxes and Arctic hares, with bluish-grey coats +in the summer and snowy-white ones in the winter. This change of colour is a provision of Nature, rendering these particular +animals, and some birds also, almost invisible among the snows. The ermine is another instance of this. In summer he is just +an ugly little brown stoat; but in winter he comes out in pure white, with a jet-black tip to his tail, a skin worth a lot +of money. + +</p> +<p>Of all these small Norwegian animals perhaps the most interesting is the lemming, who, for some reason best known to himself, +does not trouble to put on a white coat in the winter, but keeps to his stripy jacket all the year round. He lives everywhere—up +on the mountains and down in the valleys, and is hardly as large as an ordinary rat; but woe betide the dog that brings him +to bay, for if he finds his road to escape barred, he will sit up and fight to the death, and he <a id="d0e984"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e984">50</a>]</span>knows how to bite. Yet he would much rather run away if he could, as in ordinary life he is quite peacefully inclined, and +feeds on nothing more than grass and herbs and roots. + +</p> +<p>But there is a peculiarity about the lemming which makes the country-folk of Norway more afraid of him than of any other animal. +In most years you may wander about the country for weeks and never see a lemming, but occasionally there comes what is called +a “lemming-year,” when more young lemmings are born than usual, and then the trouble begins. They eat up everything round +about their homes, and they begin to wander in search of food in packs of thousands, like swarms of locusts. The farmers try +to destroy them, but they soon give up the attempt, as for days and days the lemmings come on in great waves, eating up the +grass and the crops wherever they pass. Except the sea, nothing will stop them when once they have made a start; they come +down the mountain-sides, swim the rivers and streams, rush through the forests, and, eating as they go, devastate the farm-lands. +They do not wander hither and thither, but keep to the same direction straight ahead, until they eventually reach the sea. +Whether they think that it is only another river to be crossed, or whether they think that they have done enough damage for +one lifetime, nobody knows; but into the sea they all plunge madly, and, of course, are soon drowned. + +</p> +<p>This, however, does not end the nuisance, for thousands of them die as they sweep over the country, leaving their dead bodies +to poison the water, and thus making the people ill with what they term “lemming <a id="d0e990"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e990">51</a>]</span>fever.” So the pretty little lemmings are on occasions more to be dreaded than are even bears and wolves, but fortunately +“lemming-years” do not come round very often, and the whole country is not visited by the pest at the same time. They made +their last big raid in several districts in 1902, and they may come swarming down from the mountains again any summer. + +</p> +<p>I must now say something about the wild animals which are helpful to the people in that they provide them with food and bring +money to their pockets. Foxes and other fur-bearing animals will always fetch good prices. There are also the hares, especially +the white ones, which are shot and snared in winter-time in great quantities, and sold all over Europe. You may see them hanging +up in the poulterers’ shops in London. Then there is that huge beast, the elk, almost as big as a small horse, who roams about +the forests like his Canadian brother, the moose, and is hunted and shot for his flesh, skin, and massive flat horns. Red +deer there are also in some parts of Norway; but the animal of greatest interest is undoubtedly the reindeer. + +</p> +<p>Up on the great mountain plateaux there are still plenty of wild reindeer roaming about in large herds, and numbers of them +are shot every autumn by the farmers, who sell the skins, and dry the meat to be eaten in the winter months. It is, however, +the so-called tame reindeer which are so invaluable to the people of the North. Without them it would be difficult, if not +impossible, for the Laplanders to exist, and without them thousands of Norwegians would be poor indeed. + +</p> +<p>It is a popular idea that, in the winter, reindeer draw <a id="d0e998"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e998">52</a>]</span>the sleighs all over Norway. As a matter of fact, it is only in the extreme North, among the Lapps, that reindeer are employed +for this kind of work; and very few Europeans ever have the opportunity of enjoying a drive in a reindeer “pulk,” as the queer +sleigh is called. That the experience is most exhilarating and exciting is certain. In the first place, there is only one +trace, connecting a kind of shoulder harness with the forepart of the sleigh; again, there is only one rein coming from a +collar round the deer’s neck, and consequently driving a reindeer as we drive a horse is, of course, out of the question. +All that it is possible to do is to head him in the required direction, and hope for the best. A jerk of the rein sets him +going; and, as often as not, he starts at a frantic gallop, kicking up the snow into the driver’s face until he is almost +blinded, and careering right and left at his own sweet will until he is tired. There is no difficulty about keeping to the +road, because there are no roads—only miles and miles of snow, and the reindeer knows pretty well which way to go, since the +camping-places and habitations in these regions are limited. + +</p> +<p>Imagine what it would be like to jump into a boat-like “pulk” all alone—for there is only room for one—twist the rein round +your wrist, give it a flick, and so away over the waste of snow, watching the great antlers of the deer in front of you, and +flinging yourself from side to side to prevent capsizing. And, if you do happen to upset, you must hang on to the rein like +grim death and be dragged over the snow, otherwise the reindeer will either fly like the wind and be lost, or he may turn +on you and attack you with his fore-hoofs. +<a id="d0e1002"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1002">53</a>]</span></p> +<p>These are the animals which are called the tame reindeer, but their tameness only consists in the fact that they are kept +in herds together, and watched by men and dogs. They graze wherever they choose, and the men and the dogs have to follow them. +When they are wanted for driving, to be milked, or to be killed, the Lapp has to lasso them over the horns, from a distance +of thirty or forty yards, for no reindeer is ever sufficiently tame to permit a man to walk up to him. + +</p> +<p>The wealth of a Laplander depends on the number of reindeer which he possesses. They carry his baggage and draw his sleighs +when encampments are moved; they provide him with milk and cheese, and, when killed, with excellent meat. Their skins keep +him warm at night, and out of them are made boots, shoes, and leggings, as well as every kind of article of leather which +the Lapp has a use for. Horns, hoofs, and bones all have their value, and not so long ago the women did all their sewing with +needles and threads made out of reindeer’s bones and sinews. Moreover, after supplying their own wants, the herdsmen can sell +the surplus meat and skins, and thus obtain the wherewithal to buy other necessaries or luxuries. + +</p> +<p>Cows, horses, sheep, goats, or pigs would be out of place in Lapland, and would find nothing to eat. But the “camel of the +Arctic Desert,” as the reindeer has been called, thrives in the cold without care or shelter, and subsists on the moss, which +he obtains by scraping deep holes in the snow. Small wonder that he is a valuable beast to the Laplander, who, however, repays +him only with blows and lashes. + +</p> +<p>Farther south, on the Hardanger Fjeld and <a id="d0e1011"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1011">54</a>]</span>elsewhere, herds of tame reindeer have now been established by Norwegian companies as a new industry. Lapps are hired to look +after them, and the meat is sold in great quantities in many parts of Europe, especially in Paris. A good trade is done also +in the skins, for glove-making and other purposes. It is by no means difficult to have a look at one of these herds, and any +visitor to Norway who finds himself within a day’s climb of the mountains whereon a herd is known to be grazing should do +his utmost to see the reindeer. He will find them not, like the deer in Richmond Park, waiting to be looked at, but timid +and restless, and ready to take flight at the slightest provocation. Only the Lapp herdsmen and their dogs are able to control +these wild children of a wild land. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e1013" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XI</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Wild Nature—Birds</h2> +<p>What a place Norway must be for birds’-nesting! There, if one went at the right time, and did not mind roughing it, one might +find eggs which one could never come across in England, although laid by birds which are called British. But the Norwegians +protect a great many of their birds by law in the same way as we do, and if this had only been done a hundred years ago the +Great Auk would not have disappeared for ever. + +</p> +<p>Most of our British birds are found in Norway at some time of the year, and many of our rarer birds are almost common in Norway—golden +eagles, snowy owls, ravens, ring-ouzels, and crested tits, for instance. <a id="d0e1022"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1022">55</a>]</span>As with us, there are resident birds and migratory birds. Nearly all the kinds of birds which come from the South in the summer +months to nest in the British Isles also go farther North and nest in Norway. You will find swallows, martins, cuckoos, warblers, +and others of our summer birds all nesting over there, and you will find some varieties of southern birds which do not come +to England, but go straight up from Eastern or Central Europe to breed in the cool of the North. Amongst these may be mentioned +the blue-throated warbler, ortolan bunting, Lapland bunting, shore lark, red-throated pipit, tree warbler, and many others. + +</p> +<p>Then there are birds which are common enough in England in the winter, but which mostly go away to Norwegian breeding-grounds, +such as geese, ducks, woodcock, and snipe; while bramblings, fieldfares, and redwings are birds of the North, and never nest +in Great Britain. Besides these, there are a certain number of birds which have no claim to be termed British, and which are +found in Norway all the year round—the nut-cracker, several kinds of woodpecker, the ryper (the game-bird of the country), +and others. And, on the other hand, some of our common resident birds migrate from Norway in the winter. + +</p> +<p>The house-sparrow is as much at home in Norway as he is in every other land, but in winter he sticks close to the habitations, +and were it not for the fact that the people are bird-lovers, sparrows would have a poor chance of picking up a living at +this time of the year. Towards the end of autumn it is a general custom to erect near the house a sheaf of corn on a pole, +so that the small birds may have something to eat <a id="d0e1028"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1028">56</a>]</span>when the hard weather comes. And the ceremony of putting up the pole is made the occasion for a feast for the children. They +are thus not likely to forget the birds, and even in the towns one sees these bundles of corn hanging outside the windows. + +</p> +<p>It is, perhaps, a little disappointing to find that robins in Norway are not associated with Christmas, but the fact remains +that they are not brave enough to risk starvation, and though a few of them are said to stay in the country, the bulk of them +leave in September. But the wren takes the place of the robin as far as tameness and impertinence are concerned, as in winter +he attaches himself to the peasant’s cottage and makes himself quite at home, being known either as “Peter-of-the-Afternoon” +or as “Tommy-round-the House.” Magpies also are great favourites with the country people at this season, as they become quite +tame, and hop in and out of the cottages. They are regularly fed, and no one would dream of molesting them. + +</p> +<p>The Norwegians have several quaint old legends connected with some of their birds. This is the story of the gold-crest, known +in Norway as the “bird king”: + +</p> +<p>“Once upon a time the golden eagle determined to be publicly acknowledged as king of the birds, and he called a meeting of +every kind of bird in the world. As many of the birds would come from tropical countries, he appointed a day in the warmest +month; and the place he chose was a vast tract called Grönfjeld, where every species of bird would feel at home, since it +bordered on the sea, yet was well provided with trees, shrubs, flowers, rocks, sand, and heather, as well <a id="d0e1036"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1036">57</a>]</span>as with lakes and rivers full of fish. So on the morning of the great congress the birds began to arrive in a steady stream, +and by noon every description of bird was represented—even the ostrich (though how he contrived to cross the seas the story +does not say). The eagle welcomed them, and when the last hummingbird had settled down he addressed the meeting, saying that +there was no doubt that he had a right to demand to be proclaimed their king. The spread of his wings was prodigious, he could +fearlessly look at the sun, and to whatever height he soared he could detect the slightest movement of a fly on the earth. +But the birds objected to him on account of his predatory habits, and then each in turn stated his own case as a claimant +for the kingship—the ostrich could run the fastest, the bird of paradise and the peacock could look the prettiest, the parrot +could talk the best, the canary could sing the sweetest, and every one of them, for some reason or other, was in his own opinion +superior to his fellows. After several days of fruitless discussion it was finally decided that whichever bird could soar +the highest should be, once and for all, proclaimed king.” + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e1039" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p57.jpg" alt="Bondhus Glacier, Hardanger Fjord" width="720" height="509"><p class="figureHead">Bondhus Glacier, Hardanger Fjord</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e1111" class="typeref">63</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + +</p> +<p>“Every bird who could fly at all tried his best, and the golden eagle, confident of success, waited till last. Eventually +he spread his wings, and as he did so an impudent little gold-crest hopped (unbeknown to his great rival) on to his back. +Up went the eagle, and soon outdistanced every other bird. Then, when he had almost reached the sun, he shouted out, ‘Well, +here I am, the highest of all!’ ‘Not so,’ answered the gold-crest, as, leaving the eagle’s back, he fluttered <a id="d0e1051"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1051">58</a>]</span>upwards, until suddenly he knocked his head against the sun and set fire to his crest. Stunned by the shock, the little upstart +fell headlong to the ground, but, soon recovering himself, he immediately flew up on to the royal rock and showed the golden +crown which he had assumed. Unanimously he was proclaimed <i lang="no">fuglekongen</i> (king of the birds), and by this name,” concludes the legend, “he has ever since been known, his sunburnt crest remaining +as a proof of his cunning and daring.” + +</p> +<p>In those parts of Norway where the gold-crest is rarely seen the same story, omitting the part about the sun and the burnt +crest, is told of the common wren, who is said to have broken off his tail in his great fall. And to this is applied a moral, +viz.: Proud and ambitious people sometimes meet with an unexpected downfall. + +</p> +<p>Besides the three British woodpeckers, there are four other kinds resident in Norway, and of these the great black woodpecker +is the largest. The woodmen consider it to be a bird which brings bad luck, and avoid it as much as possible. They call it +“Gertrude’s Bird” because of the following legend: “Our Saviour once called on an old woman who lived all alone in a little +cottage in an extensive forest in Norway. Her name was Gertrude, and she was a hard, avaricious old creature, who had not +a kind word for anybody, and although she was not badly off in a worldly point of view, she was too stingy and selfish to +assist any poor wayfarer who by chance passed her cottage door. One day our Lord happened to come that way, and, being hungry +and thirsty, he asked of Gertrude a morsel of <a id="d0e1060"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1060">59</a>]</span>bread to eat and a cup of cold water to drink. But no, the wicked old woman refused, and turned our Saviour from the door +with revilings and curses. Our Lord stretched forth His hand towards the aged crone, and, as a punishment, she was immediately +transformed into a black woodpecker; and ever since that day the wicked old creature has wandered about the world in the shape +of a bird, seeking her daily bread from wood to wood and from tree to tree.” The red head of the bird is supposed to represent +the red nightcap worn by Gertrude. + +</p> +<p>Legends of this description were doubtless introduced in the early days of Christianity in order to impress the new religion +on the people, and several have been preserved. Thus the turtle-dove is revered as a bird which spoke kind words to our Lord +on the cross; and, similarly, the swallow is said to have perched upon the cross and to have commiserated with Him; while +the legend of the crossbill relates how its beak became twisted in endeavouring to withdraw the nails, and how to this day +it bears upon its plumage the red blood-stains from the cross. + +</p> +<p>Yet one more Christian legend—about the lapwing, or peewit: “The lapwing was at one time a hand-maiden of the Virgin Mary, +and stole her mistress’s scissors, for which she was transformed into a bird, and condemned to wear a forked tail resembling +scissors. Moreover, the lapwing was doomed for ever and ever to fly from tussock to tussock, uttering the plaintive cry of +‘<span lang="no">Tyvit! tyvit!</span>’—<i>i.e.,</i> ‘Thief! thief!’” + +</p> +<p>In the old Viking times, before Christianity had found its way so far North, the bird which influenced <a id="d0e1074"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1074">60</a>]</span>the people most was the raven. He was credited with much knowledge, as well as with the power to bring good or bad luck. One +of the titles of Odin was “Raven-god,” and he had as messengers two faithful ravens, “who could speak all manner of tongues, +and flew on his behests to the uttermost parts of the earth.” In those days the figure of a raven was usually emblazoned on +shield and standard, and it was thought that as the battle raged victory or defeat could be foreseen by the attitude assumed +by the embroidered bird on the standard. And it is well known that William the Conqueror (who came of Viking stock) flew a +banner with raven device at the Battle of Hastings. + +</p> +<p>But the greatest use of all to which the sable bird was put was to guide the roving pirates on their expeditions. Before a +start was made a raven was let loose, and the direction of his flight gave the Viking ships their course. In this manner, +according to the old Norse legends, did Floki discover Iceland; and many other extraordinary things happened under the auspices +of the raven. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e1078" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XII</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Waterfalls, Snowfields, and Glaciers</h2> +<p>A really fine waterfall is a most fascinating thing. Long before you reach it you hear the roar of the water, and see the +spray ascending like steam from a boiling caldron. Then when you stand before it, you gaze in wonder on the never-ending rush +of water, hurtling in one great mass from top to bottom of the <a id="d0e1085"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1085">61</a>]</span>lofty cliff, or leaping in mighty bounds from ledge to ledge. + +</p> +<p>Nowhere in Europe can one see such a variety of waterfalls as in Norway, for every district has its <i lang="no">fos</i>, and in some districts the cascades are innumerable. In the Romsdal, for instance, an English traveller once counted within +a mile no fewer than seventy-three waterfalls, “none of which were less than 1,000 feet high, while some plunged down 2,000 +feet.” But the majority of these would only consist of a single thread of water, not of that great, broad sheet which is the +feature of the more famous falls. + +</p> +<p>Which of Norway’s many waterfalls is the finest is a matter of opinion. Some people give the palm to the Rjukanfos (Telemarken), +some to the Skjæggedalsfos<a id="d0e1094src" href="#d0e1094" class="noteref">1</a> (or Ringedalsfos), some to the Vöringfos, while others maintain that the Vettifos, the Tvindefos, and the Tyssedalsfos are +without rivals. The fact is that each of these (and other falls which could be named) has its own particular charm, and the +last one visited always seems to be the best. A great deal also depends on the time of year, and on the amount of snow which +has fallen on the mountains during the preceding winter. For, it must be remembered, it is the rapid melting of the snow in +the spring that gives to most of the Norwegian waterfalls such a volume of water in the early months of the year. + +</p> +<p>But the summer rainfall on the high fjelds is always heavy, and even after all the snow of the year has melted, an immense +amount of water has to drain away to the lowlands, and so to the sea. At first it <a id="d0e1101"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1101">62</a>]</span>collects in the tarns which fill the hollows of the mountain plateaux, but these, overflowing, soon send their surplus water +by certain channels away over the cliffs. + +</p> +<p>The greater waterfalls, however, are those which indirectly carry off the water from the snowfields, the mountains capped +with perpetual snow; for, except during the frost-bound months of winter, these falls are always full. + +</p> +<p>The snowfields are of themselves of immense interest, but so intimately are they connected with the glaciers that we shall +speak of the two together. A snowfield may exist without a glacier, but a glacier cannot exist without a snowfield—that is +to say, the glacier is made by the snowfield. + +</p> +<p>How snowfields came into existence nobody knows for certain, but it is generally supposed by learned people who have studied +the matter that, thousands of years ago, after what is called the Great Ice Age, Norway gradually put off her mantle of ice +and snow and became what she is now; but the snow on the higher parts of the land has never yet had time to melt right away, +because fresh snow is always falling and adding to the pile. And it is the weight of all this fresh snow on the top of the +accumulation of centuries which produces the glaciers. + +</p> +<p>The Folgefond, in the Hardanger district, is the snowfield which most people who visit Norway see sooner or later, and since +it covers an area of 120 square miles, at a height of about 5,500 feet above the sea, it is visible from a great many points +of view. It forms a background to many a picture of the varied scenery of the <a id="d0e1111"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1111">63</a>]</span>Hardanger Fjord, and it has the advantage of being easily accessible. + +</p> +<p>Of course, the belief in the old popular legends is dying out even in Norway, but there are still some aged grandfathers and +grandmothers living near the great snowfield who can tell the tales as they were told to them. Thus they relate that where +the Folgefond now lies was once a fertile and well-peopled valley, called Folgedalen, and that in one night its farms, forests, +people, and cattle were buried in snow as a judgment for some great sin. One story ascribes the misfortune to the curse of +a gipsy woman, who had been refused alms by the priest; while another relates that the valley was overwhelmed because the +inhabitants had murdered their liege lord, the petty King of the district. + +</p> +<p>But why it happened and how it happened does not really much matter, for there the vast field of snow is to-day, and there +it will doubtless remain for many centuries to come. As has been said, you can go up to the top of it and sleigh across a +portion of its summit, or you can potter round about it and examine its many glaciers. + +</p> +<p>The two largest glaciers of the Folgefond are the Buar Bræ, near Odda, and the Bondhus Bræ, near Sundal, and to spend a day +at either of them is a real treat. But it is not wise to visit these glaciers without someone who knows them, for one might +easily fall into one of the great fissures in the ice, known as crevasses, especially if lately-fallen snow had hidden the +opening of the mighty crack. + +</p> +<p>A glacier, as most people know (now that everyone <a id="d0e1121"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1121">64</a>]</span>goes to Switzerland, if not to Norway), is nothing more than a river of ice; not a nice, clean, smooth sheet of ice, but a +rough mass of frozen billows, almost blue in colour, and generally covered with sand, dust, and stones of all sizes. Wherever, +beneath the edge of a snowfield, the country shapes itself into a valley, there you will find a glacier. + +</p> +<p>If you make a snowball, and keep pressing and kneading it in your hands, you will soon convert it into a solid lump of ice. +That is just what the sun does to the snowfield. It keeps melting the new snow, and this presses down into the old snow, so +that the weight of the whole thing squeezes out the frozen snow into the valleys in the form of glaciers. And, as this process +goes on year after year, the glacier would naturally keep going lower and lower down into the valley were it not for the fact +that the point (or snout, as it is termed) of the glacier very frequently breaks off, and disappears into the torrent of ice-water +which flows away from it. So some glaciers, although always moving, never grow any longer, but others creep a little bit farther +down each year. + + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e1126" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p64.jpg" alt="Lærdalsören" width="720" height="498"><p class="figureHead">Lærdalsören</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e1236" class="typeref">70</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + + +</p> +<p>There are many other interesting things about a glacier. One of them is the moraine, which consists of heaps of rocks and +stones broken off from the edges of the valley by the great river of ice as it pushes its way imperceptibly forward. These +rocks are embedded in the ice or borne on its surface, and are only given up when the extremity of the glacier melts away +into the torrent. Some of the rocks thus transported are of immense weight, and the torrent is powerless to move them; year +by year, therefore, the jumbled heap of <a id="d0e1138"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1138">65</a>]</span>boulders and rocks is added to until it often grows to an enormous size. + +</p> +<p>Another fine snowfield in the Hardanger district is the Jökul, a splendid white dome, whose melting snows help to swell the +Vöringfos. The Jökul does not possess many large glaciers, but one of them has, in past years, been a great source of trouble +to the people who live near it. This is the Rembesdal glacier, at the far end of the Simodal Valley, near Eidfjord. + +</p> +<p>The Simodal is a beautiful and fertile valley, with farms on either bank of the river, which rushes through it to the fjord. +This river comes from the glacier, but not directly. The head of the valley is choked by a high cliff, over which tumbles +a grand waterfall, and this issues from a large mountain lake, into the opposite end of which descends the snout of the glacier, +with a continuous stream of milky water flowing from it. So far there is nothing peculiar in all this, but the peculiarity +lies higher up. + +</p> +<p>Some little distance up the glacier, and almost at right angles to one side of it, is a rocky hollow or small valley, and +into this the water begins to pour in the spring as soon as the sun is strong enough to begin to melt the snow. The great +glacier blocks up the end of this hollow with a thick dam of ice, and before long a huge lake is formed. + +</p> +<p>What used to happen every two or three years was that the pressure of the water in this dammed-up lake became so tremendous +that the glacier at last could resist it no longer. Away went the side and lower part of the glacier, and with one mighty +crash the water escaped. Down into the lower lake, and over the <a id="d0e1148"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1148">66</a>]</span>waterfall, the wall of solid water, several feet in height, descended into the valley. There it carried destruction far and +wide, sweeping away crops, cattle, farm buildings, bridges, and everything that came in its way. The loss of life also was +often considerable, for there was no warning other than the roar of the water as it burst into the valley. + +</p> +<p>A few years ago, however, some Norwegian engineers devised a means of averting these terrible floods by enabling the upper +lake to empty itself gradually. They constructed under the glacier an iron-lined tunnel, connecting the upper lake with the +lower, and in this way the water escaped at once. So the people of Simodal can now sleep in peace. + + + + +</p> +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a id="d0e1094" href="#d0e1094src" class="noteref">1</a></span> <a href="#d0e80">Frontispiece</a>. +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div id="d0e1152" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XIII</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Driving in Norway</h2> +<p>Like Switzerland, Norway has splendid roads. No difficulty in road-making seems to be too great for the Norwegian engineers +to overcome. One frequently sees miles of road cut out of the solid rock of some mountain-side, and skirting the edge of a +fjord or long lake. Again, a road may wind its way through a narrow gorge, with precipices a thousand feet high on either +hand, and down in the depths a wild torrent, crossed every here and there by massive stone bridges; or, over the open mountains +a road will zigzag upwards to a pass in long loops, like the famous “Snake Road” near Röldal. + +</p> +<p>And the surface of all these roads is hard and kept in <a id="d0e1161"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1161">67</a>]</span>good repair—at any rate, in the summer months. In the winter they are, of course, thick in snow, which, when beaten down by +the sleigh traffic, forms a new surface, which takes the wear and tear off the actual roadway for several months. + +</p> +<p>But we are now writing of the summer, after the snow has all melted, the snow-ploughs put on one side, and the roads recovered +from the havoc wrought by the streams of melting snow. Then the sleighs have been hidden away in the innermost recesses of +barns and outhouses, and the driving season begins. + +</p> +<p>Driving is one of the greatest enjoyments of Norwegian travel, though too much of it is perhaps wearisome. The best plan is +to arrange a tour, so that some of it shall be by railway, some by steamer, some walking, and some driving, and this is generally +easy to manage. The particular charm of driving is that the traveller can take his own time, go his own pace, and stop when +and where he chooses. In this manner the scenery is capable of being more fully appreciated. + +</p> +<p>Until quite recently there were very few railways in Norway, and there are not many now. There are, however, plenty of excellent +roads, and a well-organized system of posting. The posting-stations are situated about ten miles apart, and consist usually +of a small inn or farmhouse, where the traveller can demand food and lodgings, as well as a change of conveyance and horses. +The <i lang="no">skydsgut</i> (literally post-boy, but frequently an old man, or even a woman), accompanies the conveyance from his station to the next, +and returns with it, though nowadays it is more usual to engage a vehicle (if not also a horse or pony) for a whole day’s +journey, which <a id="d0e1172"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1172">68</a>]</span>has the advantage of avoiding the perpetual rearrangement of one’s luggage. + +</p> +<p>There are four kinds of conveyance in general use: the <i lang="no">calèche</i>, drawn by a pair of horses, and something like a heavily-built victoria; the <i lang="no">trille</i>, a light, four-wheeled trap with two horses; and the <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i> and the <i>carriole</i>, the last two being the most popular and convenient vehicles for quick travelling. + +</p> +<p>The <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i> is a rough, box-like cart, with a seat for two persons, and another little seat behind for the <i lang="no">skydsgut</i>. It has the advantages of ample room for luggage, and economy when travelling two together, the hire of one <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i> being less than that of two <i>carrioles</i>; but, having no springs, it jolts and jars its occupants most unmercifully. + +</p> +<p>The <i>carriole</i> may be considered to be the national vehicle of Norway, and is certainly the most comfortable. In appearance it resembles +a miniature buggy, and it holds one person, who can stretch his legs in a long, narrow trough between the seat and the splash-board; +or, by straddling the trough, the occupant can rest his feet on two conveniently-placed iron steps. The luggage is strapped +on to a board behind, and the <i lang="no">skydsgut</i> sits on it. A day’s drive in a <i>carriole</i>, if the weather be fine and the pony a good one, is a real pleasure, and an intelligent <i lang="no">skydsgut</i> will enliven the journey with his amusing babble, as well as with scraps of information about the country traversed. + +</p> +<p>The ponies are generally about thirteen hands in height, good-tempered, sure-footed, strong, and hardy, and think nothing +of doing thirty or forty miles a day, if given an occasional rest. Driving them requires no <a id="d0e1218"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1218">69</a>]</span>great skill, and it is best to leave them as much as possible to their own devices, since reins and bit have very little influence +over their movements. One may haul on to the reins for half an hour without inducing the pony to pull up, but the magic sound +of the “burr-r-r” uttered by the <i lang="no">skydsgut</i> will cause the little beast to stop dead. And he will not go on again until he hears the peculiar click of his master’s tongue. +So the stranger in the <i>carriole</i> or <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i> will do well to hold the reins for the sake of appearances, and allow his <i lang="no">skydsgut</i> to do the rest. + +</p> +<p>One word of comfort to the adventurous driver: Do not be alarmed if you notice that the harness is dropping to pieces. Your +henchman (up behind) will soon put matters right with some scraps of string and a few bits of stick. + +</p> +<p>But the actual drive—how lovely it all is! Now you are passing up a valley among the hayfields and orchards which border the +river, and by the roadside you find a profusion of wild flowers—great purple gentians, blue harebells, yellow mountain globe +flowers, and other blossoms of varied colours. Butterflies there are also in abundance, and, if you be an entomologist, your +heart will rejoice at the sight of such rare English insects as the Camberwell Beauty, the Northern Brown, and others. Now +you enter a dark pine-forest, to find yourself before long emerging on to an open stretch of wild moorland; and so you cross +the col, and commence to drop down into another valley, narrow and shut in by towering mountains. Waterfalls sparkle in the +sun as they tumble over the cliffs, and the still unmelted snow stands out white and glistering on the distant <a id="d0e1236"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1236">70</a>]</span>hill-tops. The road swings from side to side of the valley, crossing the torrent in its bottom by stout timber bridges, and +at last you reach the margin of the great lake, where stands the neat little inn ready to provide you with your midday meal. + +</p> +<p>The organized tours, however short they be, always include a drive of this description, and no Englishman would consider that +he had visited Norway unless he had driven through a part of the country. Even in a week one can cover a deal of ground. One +can go by steamer from Bergen up the Hardanger Fjord to Eide, and thence drive across the neck of land to the Sogne Fjord, +through the finest and most varied scenery imaginable, returning to Bergen, if needs be, by steamer down the Sogne Fjord. +Or, if there be a few days to spare, one can steam across the head of the Sogne Fjord from Gudvangen to Lærdalsören, and thence +again take <i>carriole</i> or <i lang="no">stolkjærre</i> to the Fillefjeld, and so visit the wildest of Norway’s mountain districts, the Jotunheim—the Home of the Giants. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e1246" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XIV</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Arctic Days and Nights</h2> +<p>Everyone has read of the midnight sun and of the sunless winter of the North. They are features of all tales of Arctic exploration. +Yet, in order to see the sun shining at midnight or to experience pitch-dark days, it is not necessary to be actually a seeker +after the North Pole. Sunny nights and black winter days <a id="d0e1253"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1253">71</a>]</span>may be enjoyed, or otherwise, even in Norway, but only in the Far North—within the Arctic Circle. + +</p> +<p>It is not quite easy to realize what things are like right away up in the North, as it were, on the top of the world, and +why things are as they are is difficult to explain without entering into a host of scientific details. We will, therefore, +avoid a long discussion about the movements of the earth and suchlike matters, and merely mention certain facts. At the North +Pole itself there is continuous day for six months of the year, and continuous night for the other six months, while on the +line known as the Arctic Circle the sun shines at midnight once, and once only, in the year, and during one entire day of +twenty-four hours in the winter it does not rise above the horizon at all. South of the Arctic Circle there is no such thing +as midnight sun or as a day without sunrise. + +</p> +<p>As far as Norway is concerned, a considerable tract of country lies within the Arctic Circle—in fact, an area rather larger +than that of Ireland—so it is not very difficult to find a place where the midnight sun can be seen for a period in the summer-time, +and where in the winter some of the days are really dark. Of course, to see the midnight sun it is necessary to be at the +place selected at the right time, and even then there is always the chance of the sky being clouded over, and no sun visible. +For the latter reason travellers with plenty of leisure endeavour to go as far North as possible, so as to be almost certain +of seeing the great sight. + +</p> +<p>Nowadays everything is made easy for everybody, and steamers take passengers to the North Cape <a id="d0e1261"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1261">72</a>]</span>throughout the summer for the sole purpose of enabling them to see the midnight sun from the very best point of view. Here, +provided that the sky is clear, the midnight sun can be seen from May 13 to July 31. Between those dates it does not set, +and it would be a bad summer indeed if the clouds hid the sun for so long a time. + +</p> +<p>To reach the North Cape takes a good deal of time, and many people dislike a lengthy sea voyage; but even if one starts from +Bergen and goes all the way by sea, there is something of interest to be seen every day, as the steamer keeps close to the +coast, threads its way among the innumerable small islands, and calls at many places with beautiful scenery in the background, +more especially Molde and Christiansund. + +</p> +<p>A little farther on you come to Trondhjem; but if you would curtail the sea voyage it is not necessary to take the steamer +from Bergen, since Trondhjem can be reached by rail from Christiania or by a driving tour right through the country from various +places. Onwards from Trondhjem, however, you must go by sea, unless you are prepared for a long and rough overland journey. + +</p> +<p>Trondhjem, the ancient capital of Norway, is a place of historic interest, and contains the finest cathedral in Scandinavia. +Its name means “throne home,” as the old Kings of Norway used to reside there, and it was the place where the coronation ceremony +was always performed. Though no longer the capital of the country, it is still a flourishing town, and the present King (Haakon +VII.) was crowned there a few years ago. + +</p> +<p>Now the real sea voyage to the North Cape <a id="d0e1271"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1271">73</a>]</span>commences, and with luck you may reach your destination in five days, but on every one of the five you will stop somewhere +or see something which will be worth seeing. The town of Namsos is of no great interest, but the coast and island scenery +now becomes stupendous and grand, with great giant rocks rising up out of the sea. The most remarkable of these are Torghatten +and Hestmanden. + +</p> +<p>The peculiarity of Torghatten lies in the fact that there is a hole or tunnel straight through the massive rock, which itself +is some 800 feet in height. As you sail past it you see daylight through the hole, and if you land to examine it you will +find that it is nearly 200 yards from end to end, and that its almost perpendicular sides vary in height from 60 feet at one +end to four times that height at the other end. No man can account for this remarkable tunnel except by quoting the local +legend, and in this the Hestmand (the other extraordinary rocky island) is mixed up. + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e1276" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p73.jpg" alt="A Lapp Mother and Child" width="528" height="720"><p class="figureHead">A Lapp Mother and Child</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e1338" class="typeref">80</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + +</p> +<p>Hestmanden, the “man on horseback,” is a wonderful mass of rock, the outline of which, allowing for a little imagination, +resembles a man on a horse. And this is the legend: + +</p> +<p>Not far from Torghatten is an island called Lekö, on which, in the age of the giants, there lived a beautiful maiden. In those +days the Hestmand was a real live giant, and he fell desperately in love with the Lekö maiden. But the latter, who was only +half a giantess, was afraid of the great monster, and would have nothing to do with him. So the Hestmand flew into a rage, +and one day chased the object of his affections, who fled for her life. The giants did not do <a id="d0e1290"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1290">74</a>]</span>things by halves, and the Hestmand was so angry that he meant to kill the maiden, and he shot at her with a giant arrow, which +was a fairly large fir-tree. Now, just at the moment that he shot his arrow, the maiden’s brother, who was another giant, +realized what was going on, and flung his hat between his sister and the arrow. The maiden was saved, but the arrow pierced +the hat. Then the sun suddenly appeared above the horizon, and the actors in the tragedy were instantly turned into stone. +Hestmanden is the wicked giant on his horse; Torghatten is the hat which was pierced by the arrow; the arrow itself may be +seen, as a great stone pinnacle, on a neighbouring island; while Lekömoen, the mountain on Lekö, is the beautiful maiden who +caused all the trouble. + +</p> +<p>But to continue the voyage. Immediately after passing Hestmanden the Arctic Circle is crossed, and a few hours later a call +is made at the little town of Bodö. Thence to the Lofödden Islands is no great distance, and after they have been visited +and the wonderful cod drying-grounds inspected, the steamer wends its way to Tromsö, and then to Hammerfest, which we have +already referred to as a great place for the manufacture of cod-liver oil. Beyond this the rocky coast presents a succession +of rugged and wild capes and promontories until the object of the voyage at length comes in sight. + +</p> +<p>The North Cape, the northernmost point of Norway, is a rocky headland on Magerö Island—the end of all things, rising a thousand +feet above the deep blue Arctic sea. The climb up the steep, zigzag pathway from the spot where the steamer lands you is arduous, +<a id="d0e1296"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1296">75</a>]</span>and you will be glad of the rest by King Oscar’s column. You would have been glad if a score of other passengers had not been +with you, and still more glad if you had come here half a century earlier, before the hand of man had marked the spot, and +before all your distant friends expected you to post them a postcard from the North Cape. + +</p> +<p>Still, something of romance remains as, gazing northwards, you remember that, except, perhaps, for a corner of Spitzbergen, +nothing intervenes between you and the North Pole—only that barrier of ice which, so far, has defied all penetration. But +this is mere sentiment, and you have come to see something else—the merging of sunset with sunrise. Du Chaillu well describes +the scene: “The brilliancy of the splendid orb varies in intensity, like that of sunset and sunrise, according to the state +of moisture of the atmosphere. One day it will be of a deep red colour, tingeing everything with a roseate hue, and producing +a drowsy effect. There are times when the changes in the colour between the sunset and sunrise might be compared to the variations +of a charcoal fire, now burning with a fierce red glow, then fading away, and rekindling with greater brightness. + +</p> +<p>“There are days when the sun has a pale, whitish appearance, and when even it can be looked at for six or seven hours before +midnight. As this hour approaches the sun becomes less glaring, gradually changing into more brilliant shades as it dips towards +the lowest point of its course. Its motion is very slow, and for quite a while it apparently follows the line of the horizon, +during which there seems to be a <a id="d0e1302"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1302">76</a>]</span>pause, as when the sun reaches noon. This is midnight. For a few minutes the glow of sunset mingles with that of sunrise, +and one cannot tell which prevails; but soon the light becomes slowly and gradually more brilliant, announcing the birth of +another day, and often before an hour has elapsed the sun becomes so dazzling that one cannot look at it with the natural +eye.” + +</p> +<p>Such is the wondrous sight, and all through the summer, even before and after the period of the non-setting of the sun, the +nights are almost as light as day. Indeed, all over Norway, far to the south of the Arctic Circle, the summer nights are remarkably +short—not altogether an unmixed blessing to those who find it difficult to sleep in daylight. + +</p> +<p>But what a change comes over these northern lands in winter! At the North Cape the sun sets on November 18, not to rise again +until January 24, and everywhere within the Arctic Circle there is a time of continuous night. To us, who have no experience +of such a state of affairs, it seems as if life must be bereft of all its pleasures. Yet the dwellers in the Arctic regions +think nothing of it. To them even the dark winter has its charms, for, as has been said of a certain gentleman, it is not +really as black as it has been painted. + +</p> +<p>In the first place, there is the snow, covering everything, and even at the darkest time of year there is sufficient light, +if the sky be clear, to see to read for an hour before and an hour after midday. Then there is the light given by the moon +and stars, and lastly the cheering glow of the aurora borealis,or northern <a id="d0e1310"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1310">77</a>]</span>lights. It is not, therefore, always dark, though when snow falls or the clouds block out the sky the darkness becomes intense. +At such times the picture is truly a melancholy one. + +</p> +<p>To say that the light given by the aurora borealis does duty for sunlight is not true. Magnificent spectacle as it presents, +this marvellous phenomenon produces no light of any real value, and only occasionally for a few minutes does it illumine the +landscape. Tales of sleighing over the wastes of snow by the light of the aurora borealis have no foundation in fact, for +seldom, if ever, has it sufficient power to obliterate the stars, and never does the moon pale before it. On the other hand, +it is certain that these northern lights, streaming up into the heavens on every clear night of the long winter, must bring +feelings of pleasure to the inhabitants of the Polar regions. The form, the intensity, and the colour of the light is ever +varying, and thus, in watching it, there is always expectancy. We in England are accustomed to see these lights on autumn +nights, but the display is feeble in comparison with that of the Arctic winter. + +</p> +<p>No one knows for certain what the aurora borealis really is, and even the most scientific people can tell you no more than +that they suppose it to be “a phenomenon of electrical origin”! + + + + +<a id="d0e1316"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1316">78</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<div id="d0e1317" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XV</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Laplanders at Home</h2> +<p>Although Lapps are occasionally seen in charge of reindeer herds on some of the southern mountain tracts of Norway, their +real home is in the Far North, not only of Norway, but also of Sweden, Finland, and Russia, and the country which they inhabit +is known as Lapland. + +</p> +<p>That portion of it which belongs to Norway covers only some 3,000 or 4,000 square miles, while the whole of the Land of the +Lapps has an area of something like 35,000 square miles. But statistics show that in Norwegian Lapland there are a great many +more inhabitants than there are in Russian, Finnish, and Swedish Lapland put together; and the people, whether they be under +the rule of Russia, Sweden, or Norway, are all of the same race—Asiatics and Mongols—totally unlike Europeans in appearance. + +</p> +<p>In the first place, they are dark, and what we consider ugly, though it is quite possible that in their eyes we ourselves +are hideous. Then they are short—a five-foot Lapp would be almost a giant—but what they lack in stature they make up in sturdiness; +for, although spare of body, probably no men in the world can do a longer day’s work, or survive greater hardships. Dirty +they are certainly, since they never change their clothes and seldom comb their hair; yet, for all that, they are perfectly +healthy and happy. + +</p> +<p>They have gradually split up into three groups, known as Mountain Lapps, Sea Lapps, and River Lapps, the <a id="d0e1330"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1330">79</a>]</span>first being nomads, or wanderers, and the other two settlers, by the sea or river, who have abandoned the original mode of +life of their race. + +</p> +<p>Mountain Lapps are the most restless individuals it is possible to imagine. Winter and summer they are always on the move, +and three days are seldom passed in one place. Time does not enslave them, for they do not trouble about it. Routine is nothing +to them: they eat and drink when they feel inclined, and they sleep when a favourable opportunity occurs. In such matters, +as well as in many others, they resemble wild animals. But in some respects they are methodical: they work by the seasons, +and in their wanderings take the same lines each year. In the summer months they are down by the sea; during the remainder +of the year they are on the mountains, though at Christmas-time they usually arrange to encamp somewhere in the vicinity of +a church; for Christmas is a great event in the lives of the Lapps, since they profess Christianity, and if they are able +to go to church at no other time of the year, they make a point of doing so at this season. + +</p> +<p>To-day these people are law-abiding and peaceable, but they are a strange mixture of good and bad. They are kind and hospitable, +and of a cheerful disposition; at the same time they can be cruel, cunning, and selfish, while their love of money is no less +than their love of drink—when they can obtain it. + +</p> +<p>For one thing only does the Mountain Lapp live—his herd of reindeer. They provide all his wants—food, clothing, and the wherewithal +to purchase luxuries. They are his wealth; his very existence depends on <a id="d0e1338"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1338">80</a>]</span>them, and, in consequence, his mode of living has to be accommodated to the habits of his reindeer. Whither-soever they choose +to graze, their owner has to follow; and he deems it no hardship to pitch his rough tent on the snowy wastes in winter, or +even to sleep out under a rock, with the thermometer at seventy degrees below zero. It is his life; from earliest childhood +he has known none other; he is content with it. And it is not only the men who pass their lives thus; for the Lapp family +is to some extent a united one, and the women and children thoroughly enjoy the wild, free life, apparently suffering no ill +effects from the rigours of the climate. + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div id="d0e1341" class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/p80.jpg" alt="Skiers Drinking Goosewine" width="720" height="528"><p class="figureHead">Skiers Drinking Goosewine</p> +<p><i>Page <a href="#d0e1422" class="typeref">87</a>.</i></p> +</div><p> + + +</p> +<p>A Lapp baby starts life in a very queer way. Until it is able to walk it is kept in what is called a <i lang="no">komse</i>, a kind of cradle made of strips of wood covered with leather, and just large enough to take the baby. The little creature +is rolled up in sheepskin and put into the cradle, which is then stuffed with moss, and the leather covering laced securely +all around, so that only the baby’s face is seen. To protect its head the <i lang="no">komse</i> is provided with a wooden hood, like most cradles, and there is generally a shawl, which can be thrown over the whole thing +in severe weather; in fact, when the baby has been properly done up in its <i lang="no">komse</i>, it might go by parcel post without coming to much harm. It is a very excellent arrangement, because the family is incessantly +moving about, and the mothers have their work to do, so cannot always be bothering about their babies. A thong of leather +stretches from head to foot of the <i lang="no">komse</i>, which the mother can thus sling on her shoulder when going about, and by this thong the baby <a id="d0e1365"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1365">81</a>]</span>can be hung up to a tent-pole or to the branch of a tree if its mother is busy. But as often as not the <i lang="no">komses</i> are just stuck up on end in the snow or against a rock while work is going on. + +</p> +<p>As soon as the child can walk and has finished its cradle existence, it is dressed in clothes similar to those of his or her +father or mother, and looks most quaint. And the life which these children lead is devoid of much amusement. From the beginning +they are helping to pack up and move the tent, and to look after the reindeer; they are nothing more than little old men and +women; their toys are miniatures, or models, of such things as they will have to use later in life—lassoes, snowshoes, sleighs—and +their games are restricted to learning the use of the same. They are treated by their parents more or less as if they were +grown up, and allowed to do much as they please. Consequently, they become self-willed, and have little respect for their +elders. + +</p> +<p>After all, the mode of life of the Lapps does not differ very greatly from that of our own gipsies, though of the two the +Lapps are certainly the better people. The wandering spirit is inherent in both, but a portion of each sooner or later shakes +it off, and leads a more settled life. Some there are, however, who will never be anything but wanderers, so long as there +remains a free country wherein they are at liberty to roam. + +</p> +<p>Let us now see the kind of place which the Mountain Lapp calls “home.” It cannot be anything very elaborate or bulky, as it +has to be packed up and moved about nearly every day, and it has to be carried on the backs of the reindeer in summer, or +drawn by them in <a id="d0e1376"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1376">82</a>]</span>sleighs in the winter. So it is nothing more than a most unconventional form of tent, not altogether unlike the wigwam of +the Red Indian, or the dwelling of many other nomadic people. A few long poles are stuck up on a circle, with their ends fastened +together to form a sort of cone, and over this framework is stretched a covering of coarse woollen material. At one side there +is a loose flap, forming a door, and the whole of the top part of the tent round about the ends of the poles is left open, +to admit light and to allow the smoke from the fire to issue forth. The diameter of the tent is about twelve or fifteen feet, +and the height in the centre eight or ten feet. This is the kitchen, larder, store-room, drawing-room, dining-room, and bedroom +of the family—men, women, boys, girls, babies, dogs and all. + +</p> +<p>A few branches of trees are spread on the ground, and in the middle, immediately under the opening in the roof, is the fire, +which is kept alight day and night. Around it the inmates sit on the ground by day, and sleep by night. There is no furniture +of any kind, and only a few cooking-pots, with some wooden bowls, and spoons of wood or of horn. Beds and blankets and suchlike +luxuries are also absent, so undressing, dressing, washing, and absurdities of that kind are not indulged in. When the time +has come to go to sleep, those who are in the tent just roll themselves close up to the fire, and sleep quite comfortably +in the clothes which they probably have not taken off for a year or two. The whole family is not likely to be in the tent +at the same time; some members of it must always be looking after the reindeer, as the herd can never be left <a id="d0e1380"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1380">83</a>]</span>to its own devices; consequently, there is generally plenty of room. + +</p> +<p>Meals are free-and-easy affairs; there is no dinner-bell and no fixed time for eating. But food is always ready, hanging in +a pot over the fire; and when anyone feels inclined to eat, the hand is plunged into the pot, and a piece of meat pulled out +and devoured. In addition to reindeer-meat—of which the Lapps consume a great deal—the food consists of cheese, and sometimes +a kind of porridge; while for drink they have water, melted snow, reindeer-milk, and, on occasions, coffee. The latter they +are very fond of, but few families can afford to drink it often; so also with spirits, which, however, they only manage to +obtain in the towns. + +</p> +<p>Thus live the Mountain Lapps year in year out. To-day a family is in one place, to-morrow a dozen miles away; now and again +other families are met with, and received hospitably; but for the most part the family and its herd keep to themselves, since +to do otherwise might lead to difficulties about grazing. The rain floods their tent; the snow buries it; the wind blows it +down; yet they survive, and glory in their free life. + +</p> +<p>The Sea Lapps, though much more numerous than their brethren of the mountains, are not so interesting. They live by the coast +in huts built of wood or of sods, and obtain a livelihood by fishing. The River Lapps, on the other hand, are both herdsmen +and fishermen. Residing in small settlements on the banks of the rivers, they keep reindeer as well as a few cows and sheep, +and they do a little in the way of farming the land round the settlement. Many of them are <a id="d0e1388"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1388">84</a>]</span>even intellectual, and the advantages of having their children properly educated in the schools are gradually becoming appreciated. + + + + +</p> +</div> +<div id="d0e1390" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="label">Chapter XVI</h2> +<h2 class="normal">Winter in Christiania</h2> +<p>Cold it is, of course—bitterly cold, and always freezing hard; but it is a dry cold, and you hardly notice it. The streets +are all one sheet of frozen snow, and great care is taken to keep them in good repair, gangs of road-menders being always +at hand to fill up ruts by the simple process of picking up the hard snow of the roadway and then sprinkling a little water +on the top, which at once produces a solid surface. No wheeled traffic is now to be seen; everything is on runners, from the +carriage of the King to the doll’s perambulator. One no longer hears the rumble of the <i>carrioles</i> and <i lang="no">stolkjærres</i> over the rough flags, and the silence is broken only by the jingling of the sleigh-bells. + +</p> +<p>It is a strange sight indeed, this winter city, with its fur-clad men and women, and snow-covered houses and gardens, its +keen, crisp air and pale blue sky. What a change from the fogs and dampness of our English climate! + +</p> +<p>Christiania is gay at this time of year, for it is the “season.” The members of the Storthing, with their wives and families, +are in town for the session, and all sorts of gaieties are in progress. But all those Norwegians who have leisure to enjoy +themselves turn their attentions to the real pleasures of winter—sleighing, <a id="d0e1407"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1407">85</a>]</span>ski-ing, tobogganing, and skating. The boys and girls are thoroughly happy. Directly school is over away they go, with their +skates, snowshoes, or toboggans, to have a right good time in their different playgrounds. The hill on which the palace stands +is given up to these little revellers, and in the evenings dozens of them of all ages may be seen descending the slopes face +downwards on their <i lang="no">kjælker</i>, or racing through the trees with their long ski on their feet. The public gardens also are flooded to form a rink for the +sole use of the infant skaters, and, judging by their rosy cheeks, the outdoor exercise in the cold, dry air makes them as +healthy as any children in the world. + +</p> +<p>But grown-up people consider skating feeble sport in comparison with ski-ing, which may be called the national sport of Norway. +Not so many years ago it was restricted to that country; but now the sport has become a favourite one in Sweden, Switzerland, +and in other parts of Europe where the snow lies deep. Yet, to see perfection in the art, one must go to Norway—the real home +of the great long wooden snowshoe. From earliest youth the Norwegians of both sexes are accustomed to go about the country +in the long winter months on these strange contrivances, for without them it would be absolutely impossible to move off the +roads. Children are taught in the schools to use them; soldiers wear them at winter drill and manoeuvres; farmers, milkmaids, +cowboys, all may be seen daily in the country parts going from place to place on them, and so keen are the young rustic lads +on becoming proficient ski-runners that all over Norway are to be found ski clubs, formed for the purpose of encouraging snowshoeing +as <a id="d0e1414"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1414">86</a>]</span>a pastime, and for sending competitors to the great annual meeting at Christiania. + +</p> +<p>These snowshoe competitions are most interesting and exciting; and the pluck, endurance, and daring which they bring out are +remarkable. They take place on the hills just outside Christiania, and are attended by every man, woman, and child who can +reach the spot. On the first day is held the long-distance race, and on the second the jumping competition, only winners in +the former being allowed to enter for the latter. + +</p> +<p>Every English boy knows what it is to take part in a cross-country run of half a dozen miles. The Norwegian test is something +more formidable—about fifteen miles of rough, mountainous country, over hill and dale, through forests, and as often as not +down rocky precipices, all half buried in snow; in the runner’s hand a staff, and on his feet his ski, six or eight feet long. +The course is carefully marked out beforehand by tying pieces of coloured rag to branches and rocks, and it is a point-to-point +race throughout. Every district sends its champion, and there are frequently as many as eighty competitors, who are started +one after another at intervals of a minute. Except, however, for expert ski-runners who can follow the course, it is not an +interesting race to watch, as one only sees the start or the finish, to learn subsequently who covered the distance in the +shortest time. + +</p> +<p>The appearance of the men as they come in is sufficient proof of the terrific nature of the test. So bathed in perspiration +are they that they might have been running a “Marathon” race in the height of <a id="d0e1422"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1422">87</a>]</span>summer; and so parched are their tongues that they can scarcely speak. Lucky the skier who, during his run, chances on an +unfrozen forest pool whereat he may quench his thirst by deep draughts of what the Norwegian terms “goosewine”—our “Adam’s +ale.” + +</p> +<p>But the second day’s sport is of a different kind; the whole thing is visible to the spectators, who from first to last are +subjected to thrills of wild excitement. The ground selected for the contest is the side of a somewhat steep hill, and the +snow must be in proper condition—deep, and not having a hard-frozen crust. The competitors assemble on the summit, and at +the bottom of the slope—perhaps a hundred yards from the starting-point—is a large enclosed space, around which stand the +spectators. Half-way down the hillside, a horizontal platform, well covered with hard snow, has been built out, so as to form +the “taking-off” point for the long jump; and close by it is the box for the judges and committee. The soldiers on ski, keeping +the ground, give the signal that all is ready; in another second a bugle-call resounds from the top of the hill; and the first +man has started. + +</p> +<p>Down the slope he comes at the top of his speed, his fists clenched, and determination in his face. Gathering himself together +as he nears the “take-off,” he bends slightly on his ski, and, with a frantic bound, flies forward into space. For an instant +a breathless silence falls on the crowd, and then, as the <i lang="no">ski-löber</i> lands at the bottom, and struggles in vain to keep his feet, cheers mingled with laughter fill the air. Number 2 is no more +successful than his predecessor; but Number 3 lands on both feet with much grace, continues his way <a id="d0e1431"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1431">88</a>]</span>on level ground, and, wheeling round, receives the well-merited applause of the onlookers. Others follow in quick succession, +some making brilliant leaps, some having awkward spills; yet one and all racing down to the platform with almost abandoned +recklessness. What with the delay caused by accidents, and the time taken in measuring the successful jumps, the contest occupies +some hours. Then the judges declare the names of the prize-winners, together with the length of each man’s leap; and, prodigious +as it may seem, it is no unusual thing for the champion to accomplish 100 feet, measured on the slope from the “take-off” +to the landing-point. + +</p> +<p>Such are some of the winter sports of Norway. Can anyone wonder that the men who enter into them with so great a zest have +earned for themselves the name of “Hardy Norsemen”? Can anyone wonder that Dr. Nansen, in his younger days the champion <i lang="no">ski-löber</i> at one of these great meetings, should have defeated all others in the race for the North Pole? + + + +</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="back"><div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="normal">List of Volumes in the Peeps at Many Lands and Cities Series</h2> +<p>Each containing 12 full-page illustrations in colour + +</p> +<table> +<tr valign="top"> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>Belgium</li> +<li>Burma</li> +<li>Canada</li> +<li>Ceylon</li> +<li>China</li> +<li>Corsica</li> +<li>Denmark</li> +<li>Edinburgh</li> +<li>Egypt</li> +<li>England</li> +<li>Finland</li> +<li>France</li> +<li>Germany</li> +<li>Greece</li> +<li>Holland</li> +<li>Holy Land</li> +<li>Iceland</li> +<li>India</li> +</ol> +</td> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>Ireland</li> +<li>Italy</li> +<li>Jamaica</li> +<li>Japan</li> +<li>Korea</li> +<li>Morocco</li> +<li>New Zealand</li> +<li>Norway</li> +<li>Paris</li> +<li>Portugal</li> +<li>Russia</li> +<li>Scotland</li> +<li>Siam</li> +<li>South Africa</li> +<li>South Seas</li> +<li>Spain</li> +<li>Switzerland</li> +</ol> +</td> +</tr> +</table><p> + +</p> +<p>A larger volume in the same style + +</p> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>The World</li> +</ol><p> + +</p> +<p>Containing 37 full-page illustrations in colour + +</p> +<p>Published by Adam and Charles Black <br> +Soho Square, London, W. + + +</p> +<div class="div2"> +<h3 class="normal">Agents</h3> +<p></p> +<div class="table"> +<table width="100%"> +<tr valign="top"> +<td valign="top">AMERICA </td> +<td valign="top">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +<br>64 & 66 <span class="smallcaps">Fifth Avenue</span>, NEW YORK + +</td> +</tr> +<tr valign="top"> +<td valign="top">AUSTRALIA </td> +<td valign="top">OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS +<br>205 <span class="smallcaps">Flinders Lane</span>, MELBOURNE + +</td> +</tr> +<tr valign="top"> +<td valign="top">CANADA </td> +<td valign="top">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD. +<br><span class="smallcaps">St. Martin’s House</span>, 70<span class="smallcaps"> Bond Street</span>, TORONTO + +</td> +</tr> +<tr valign="top"> +<td valign="top">INDIA </td> +<td valign="top">MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD. +<br>MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY +<br>309 <span class="smallcaps">Bow Bazaar Street</span>, CALCUTTA +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div><p> + + +<a id="d0e1579"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1579">89</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> +[<a href="#d0e133">Contents</a>] +</span><h2 class="normal">Beautiful Books for Boys & Girls</h2> +<p>With illustrations in colour similar to those in this volume + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 1/= NET EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>“TALES OF ENGLISH MINSTERS” SERIES</b> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Elizabeth Grierson</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">EACH VOLUME CONTAINING 6 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS (2 OF THEM IN COLOUR) + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><i>Large crown 8vo., paper boards, with picture in colour on the cover</i> + + +</p> +<table> +<tr valign="top"> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>CANTERBURY + +</li> +<li>DURHAM + +</li> +<li>ELY + +</li> +<li>LINCOLN + +</li> +</ol> +</td> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>ST. ALBANS + +</li> +<li>ST. PAUL’S + +</li> +<li>YORK</li> +</ol> +</td> +</tr> +</table><p> + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 1/6 NET EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>RED CAP TALES FROM SCOTT</b> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>STOLEN FROM THE TREASURE-CHEST OF THE WIZARD OF THE NORTH</b> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">S. R. Crockett</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">EACH VOLUME CONTAINING 8 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">IN COLOUR + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><i>Large crown 8vo., cloth, with picture in colour on the cover</i> + +</p> +<table> +<tr valign="top"> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>WAVERLEY + +</li> +<li>GUY MANNERING + +</li> +<li>THE ANTIQUARY + +</li> +<li>ROB ROY + +</li> +</ol> +</td> +<td> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>IVANHOE + +</li> +<li>THE PIRATE, and A LEGEND OF MONTROSE + +</li> +<li>FORTUNES OF NIGEL + +</li> +<li>QUENTIN DURWARD</li> +</ol> +</td> +</tr> +</table><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PUBLISHED BY A. AND C. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> +<a id="d0e1667"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1667">90</a>]</span></p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 2/= EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>“PICTURES OF MANY LANDS” SERIES</b> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">EACH CONTAINING 62 ILLUSTRATIONS, 32 OF WHICH ARE IN COLOUR + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><span class="smallcaps">Crown 4to., cloth, with picture in colour on the cover</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE WORLD IN PICTURES</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">C. Von Wyss</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE BRITISH ISLES IN PICTURES</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">H. Clive Barnard</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE BRITISH EMPIRE IN PICTURES</b> <br> +By <span class="smallcaps">H. Clive Barnard</span> + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 3/6 EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">ALL WITH FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><i>Large crown 8vo., cloth</i> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Ascott R. Hope</span><br> +<b>BEASTS OF BUSINESS</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">G. Vernon Stokes</span> and <span class="smallcaps">Alan Wright</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Dean Farrar</span><br> +<b>ERIC; or, Little by Little</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">G. D. Rowlandson</span>, and 78 in Black and White by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Gordon Browne</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>ST. WINIFRED’S; or, The World of School</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Dudley Tennant</span>, and 152 in Black and White<br> +by <span class="smallcaps">Gordon Browne</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>JULIAN HOME</b><br> +<b>A Tale of College Life</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour<br> +by <span class="smallcaps">Patten Wilson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By Lieut.-Col. A. F. <span class="smallcaps">Mockler-Ferryman</span><br> +<b>THE GOLDEN GIRDLE</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Stanley Waterloo</span><br> +<b>A TALE OF THE TIME OF THE CAVE MEN</b><br> +8 full page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Simon Harmon Vedder</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">John Finnemore</span><br> +<b>THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MERRY MEN</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE WOLF PATROL</b><br> +<b>A Story of Baden-Powell’s Boy Scouts</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">H. M. Paget</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>JACK HAYDON’S QUEST</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">J. Jellicoe</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Dorothy Senior</span><br> +<b>THE KING WHO NEVER DIED</b><br> +Tales of King Arthur<br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Frank Watkins</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Andrew Home</span><br> +<b>BY A SCHOOLBOY’S HAND</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Strickland Brown</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>FROM FAG TO MONITOR</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>EXILED FROM SCHOOL</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PUBLISHED BY A. AND C. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + +<a id="d0e1921"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e1921">91</a>]</span> + + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 3/6 EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">ALL WITH FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><i>Large crown 8vo., cloth</i> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Daniel Defoe</span><br> +<b>ROBINSON CRUSOE</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Captain Cook</span><br> +<b>COOK’S VOYAGES</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Mungo Park</span><br> +<b>TRAVELS IN AFRICA</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Hume Nisbet</span><br> +<b>THE DIVERS</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +the Author +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By the <span class="smallcaps">Duchess of Buckingham and Chandos</span><br> +<b>WILLY WIND, AND JOCK AND THE CHEESES</b><br> +57 Illustrations by J. S. ELAND<br> +(9 full-page in Colour) +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Ascott R. Hope</span><br> +<b>STORIES</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Dorothy Furniss</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By the Rev. <span class="smallcaps">R. C. Gillie</span><br> +<b>THE KINSFOLK AND FRIENDS OF JESUS</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations in Colour and Sepia + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 3/6 EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">LIFE STORIES OF ANIMALS + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><span class="smallcaps">Large crown 8vo., cloth</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE BLACK BEAR</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">H. Perry Robinson</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">J. Van Oort</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE CAT</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">Violet Hunt</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Adolph Birkenruth</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE DOG</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">G. E. Mitton</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE FOWL</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">J. W. Hurst</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> and <span class="smallcaps">Maude Scrivener</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE RAT</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">G. M. A. Hewett</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Stephen Baghot de la Bere</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE SQUIRREL</b><br> +By <span class="smallcaps">T. C. Bridges</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE TIGER</b><br> +By Lieut.-Col. <span class="smallcaps">A. F. Mockler-Ferryman</span><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Harry Dixon</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 6/= EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">ALL WITH FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><span class="smallcaps">Large square crown 8vo., cloth</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick</span> and <span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Paynter</span><br> +<b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF GARDENING</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Cayley-Robinson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By Miss <span class="smallcaps">Conway</span> and Sir <span class="smallcaps">Martin Conway</span><br> +<b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF ART</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations in Colour from Public and Private Galleries +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PUBLISHED BY A. AND C. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> +<a id="d0e2203"></a><span class="pagenum">[<a href="#d0e2203">92</a>]</span></p> +<p class="aligncenter">PRICE 6/= EACH + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">ALL WITH FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><span class="smallcaps">Large square crown 8vo., cloth</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">G. E. Mitton</span><br> +<b>THE BOOK OF THE RAILWAY</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF STARS</b><br> +Preface by Sir <span class="smallcaps">David Gill</span>, K.C.B.<br> +16 full-page Illustrations (<i>11 in Colour</i>) and 8 smaller Figures in the text + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF LONDON</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">John Williamson</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">Translated and abridged by <span class="smallcaps">Dominick Daly</span><br> +<b>THE ADVENTURES OF DON QUIXOTE</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Stephen Baghot de la Bere</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>GULLIVER’S TRAVELS</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Stephen Baghot de la Bere</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Elizabeth Grierson</span><br> +<b>CHILDREN’S TALES OF ENGLISH MINSTERS</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF CELTIC STORIES</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE CHILDREN’S BOOK OF EDINBURGH</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>CHILDREN’S TALES FROM SCOTTISH BALLADS</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Dudley Kidd</span><br> +<b>THE BULL OF THE KRAAL</b><br> +<b>A Tale of Black Children</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">A. M. Goodall</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Ascott R. Hope</span><br> +<b>ADVENTURERS IN AMERICA</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Henry Sandham, R.C.A.</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>THE ADVENTURES OF PUNCH</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Stephen Baghot de la Bere</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">S. R. Crockett</span><br> +<b>RED CAP TALES</b><br> +<b>Stolen from the Treasure-Chest of the Wizard of the North</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Simon Harmon Vedder</span> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter"><b>RED CAP ADVENTURES</b><br> +<b>Being the Second Series of Red Cap Tales Stolen from the Treasure-Chest of the Wizard of the North</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Allan Stewart</span> and others +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">P. G. Wodehouse</span><br> +<b>WILLIAM TELL TOLD AGAIN</b><br> +16 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Philip Dadd</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">John Bunyan</span><br> +<b>THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Gertrude Demain Hammond</span>, R.I. +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">Edited by <span class="smallcaps">G. E. Mitton</span><br> +<b>SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Harry Rountree</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">Harriet Beecher Stowe</span><br> +<b>UNCLE TOM’S CABIN</b><br> +8 full-page Illustrations in Colour and many others in the text +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">By <span class="smallcaps">J. C. Tregarthen</span><br> +<b>THE LIFE STORY OF A FOX</b><br> +12 full-page Illustrations in Colour by<br> +<span class="smallcaps">Countess Helena Gleichen</span> +</p> +<hr class="tb"><p> + + +</p> +<p class="aligncenter">PUBLISHED BY A. AND C. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + + +</p> +<p></p> +<div class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/spine.jpg" alt="Original Spine." width="91" height="720"></div><p> + +</p> +<p></p> +<div class="figure"><img border="0" src="images/backcover.jpg" alt="Original Back Cover." width="505" height="720"></div><p> + +</p> +</div> +<div class="transcribernote"> +<h2>Colophon</h2> +<h3>Availability</h3> +<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give +it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</a>. + +</p> +<p>This eBook is produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a href="http://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</a>. + +</p> +<h3>Encoding</h3> +<p></p> +<h3>Revision History</h3> +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>2008-02-23 Started. + +</li> +</ol> +</div> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peeps at Many Lands: Norway, by +A.F. 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