Chasing the Sun, Robert Michael Ballantyne [reading tree txt] 📗

journey will be a very charming one of several days, through wild magnificent scenery. By the way, Grant, did you order the two sheep to be killed and sent aboard immediately?"

"Of course I did. Have I not always proved myself a trustworthy messenger? I told the man, in my best Norse, to have two `Kos' killed without delay."

"Two what?" exclaimed Fred, with a look of alarm.

"Two Kos," returned Grant; "did you not tell me that Ko is the Norse word for a sheep?"

"Why, as I live, you have ordered two _cows_ to be killed. Quick, come with me to the butcher's!"

The two friends rushed out of the house, and reached the shop of the man of meat just in time, fortunately, to arrest the fatal blow. The order was of course countermanded, and they were thus saved the necessity of setting up a butcher's shop in Bergen to get rid of their superabundant beef!

That night the _Snowflake_ set sail for the far north, and next morning our three adventurers were galloping through the wilds of Norway.


CHAPTER FIVE.


CARIOLE TRAVELLING--MISERABLE LODGING AND POOR FARE--NATIVE PECULIARITIES--A NIGHT BATTLE.

As I am now about to drag my reader through the wild interior of Norway, let me try to describe it. Don't be alarmed, dear reader, I do not mean to be tedious on this point, but I candidly confess that I am puzzled as to how I should begin! Norway is _such_ a jumble of Nature's elements. Perhaps a jumbled description may answer the purpose better than any other. Here it is, then.

Mountains, and crags, and gorges, and rocks, and serried ridges; towering peaks and dark ravines; lakes, and fords, and glens, and valleys; pine-woods, and glaciers, [For a full description of glaciers, see "Fast in the Ice," page 86, volume 3 of this _Miscellany_] streamlets, rivulets, rivers, cascades, waterfalls, and cataracts. Add to this--in summer--sweltering heat in the valleys and everlasting snow and ice on the mountain-tops, with sunlight all night as well as all day--and the description of Norway is complete. No arrangement of these materials is necessary. Conceive them arranged as you will, and no matter how wild your fancy, your conception will be a pretty fair idea of Norway. Toes these elements into some chamber of your brain; shake them well up,--don't be timid about it,--then look at the result, and you will behold Norway!

Having said thus much, it is unnecessary to say more. Rugged grandeur is the main feature of Norway.

On a lovely summer's evening, not long after the departure of the _Snowflake_ from Bergen, our three travellers found themselves trotting through a wild glen on each side of which rose a range of rugged mountains, and down the centre of which roared a small river. The glen was so steep, and the bed of the torrent so broken, that there was not a spot of clear water in its whole course. From the end of the lake out of which it flowed, to the head of the fiord or firth into which it ran, the river was one boiling, roaring mass of milk-white foam.

Fred Temple and his friends travelled in the ordinary vehicle of the country, which is called a _cariole_. The Norwegian cariole holds only one person, and the driver or attendant sits on a narrow board above the axle-tree.

Of course it follows that each traveller in Norway must have a cariole and a pony to himself. These are hired very cheaply, however. You can travel post there at the rate of about twopence a mile! Our friends had three carioles among them, three ponies, and three drivers or "shooscarles," [This word is spelt as it should be pronounced] besides a small native cart to carry the luggage.

Their drive that day, and indeed every day since starting, had been emphatically up hill and down dale. It was, therefore, impossible to cross such a country in the ordinary jog-trot manner. When not ascending a steep hill, they were necessarily descending one; for the level parts of the land are few and far between. In order, therefore, to get on at all, it was needful to descend the hills at a slapping pace, so as to make up for time lost in ascending them.

There was something delightfully wild in this mode of progressing, which gladdened the hearts of our travellers, each of whom had a strong dash of recklessness in his composition. There was a little danger, too, connected with it, which made it all the more attractive. Frequently the roads were narrow, and they wound along the top of precipices over which a false step might easily have hurled them. At the foot of many of the roads, too, there were sharp turns, and it was a matter of intense delight to Sam Sorrel to try how fast he could gallop down and take the turn without upsetting.

The Norwegian ponies are usually small and cream-coloured, with black manes and tails or white manes and tails; always, from some incomprehensible reason, with manes and tails different in colour from their bodies. They are hardy, active animals, and they seem to take positive pleasure in the rattling, neck-or-nothing scamper that succeeds each toilsome ascent.

The shooscarle is usually the owner of the pony. He may be a man or a boy, but whether man or boy he almost invariably wears a red worsted nightcap. He also wears coarse homespun trousers, immensely too long in the body, and a waistcoat monstrously too short. He will hold the reins and drive if you choose, but most travellers prefer to drive themselves.

During the journey Fred Temple usually led the way. Norman Grant, being a careless, easy-going, drowsy fellow, not to be trusted, was placed in the middle, and Sam Sorrel brought up the rear. Sam's duty was to prevent straggling, and pick up stray articles or baggage.

On the day of which I write the three friends had travelled far, and were very sleepy. It was near midnight when they came to a steep and broken part of the road, which ran alongside of the foaming river already mentioned, and, turning at a sharp angle, crossed it by means of a rude wooden bridge.

Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, the sky was almost as bright as at noon.

"Mind yourself here," shouted Fred, looking back at Grant, who was almost asleep.

"Hallo! oh, all right!" cried Grant, gathering up the reins and attempting to drive. Fortunately for him Norwegian ponies need no driving. They are trained to look after themselves. Fred went down the hill at a canter. Grant followed at a spanking trot, and both of them reached the bridge, and made the turn in safety.

Sam Sorrel was some distance behind. Both he and his shooscarle were sitting bolt-upright, more than half-asleep, with the reins hanging loose on the pony's back. The first thing that awakened Sam was the feeling of going down hill like a locomotive engine. Rousing himself, he seized the reins, and tried to check the pony. This only confused it, and made it run the cariole so near to the edge of the river, that they were almost upset into it.

When Sam became fully aware of his position, he opened his eyes, pursed his lips, and prepared for "squalls." Not being a practised driver, he did not make sufficient allowance for a large stone which had fallen from the cliffs, and lay on the road. He saw what was coming, and gathered himself up for a smash; but the tough little cariole took it as an Irish hunter takes a stone wall. There was a tremendous crash. Sam's teeth came together with a snap, and the shooscarle uttered a roar; no wonder, poor fellow, for his seat being over the axle, and having no spring to it, the shock which he received must have been _absolutely_ shocking! However, they got over that without damage, and the river was crossed by all three in safety.

The next hill they came to was a still worse one. When they were half-way down the leader came to a sudden halt; Grant's cariole almost ran over it; Sam and the luggage-cart pulled up just in time, and so, from front to rear, they were jammed up into the smallest space they could occupy.

"Hallo! what's wrong?" shouted Grant.

"Oh! nothing, only a trace or something broken," replied Fred. "Mend it in a minute."

It was mended in a minute, and away they went again on their reckless course over hill and dale.

The mending of the trace was a simple affair. The harness of each pony consisted of nothing more than the reins, a wooden collar, and a wooden saddle. The shafts were fastened to the collar by means of an iron pin, and this pin was secured in its place by a green withe or birch-bough twisted in a peculiar manner, so as to resemble a piece of rope. This was the only part of the harness that could break, so that when an accident of the kind occurred the driver had only to step into the woods and cut a new one. It is a rough-and-ready style of thing, but well suited to the rough country and the simple people of Norway.

Fred, being anxious to see as much as possible, had compelled his guide to turn out of the usual high-road, the consequence of which was that he soon got into difficulties; for although each shooscarle knew the district through which they were passing, they could not quite understand to what part of the country this peculiar Englishman was going. This is not surprising, for the peculiar Englishman was not quite sure of that point himself!

On this particular night they seemed to have got quite lost among the hills. At every stage of ten or twelve English miles they changed horses and drivers. The drivers on this particular stage were more stupid than usual, or Fred Temple was not so bright. Be that as it may, about midnight they arrived at a gloomy, savage place, lying deep among the hills, with two or three wooden huts, so poor-looking and so dirty that a well-bred dog would have objected to go into them. Fred pulled up when he came to this place, and Grant's pony pulled up when his nose touched the back of Fred's cart. Grant himself and his man were sound asleep. In a few seconds Sam joined them.

There was a brilliant, rosy light on the mountain-tops, but this came down in a subdued form to the travellers in the valley. The place scarcely deserved the name of a valley. It was more of a gorge. The mountains rose up like broken walls on each side, until they seemed to pierce the sky. If you could fancy that a thunderbolt had split the mountain from top to bottom, and scattered great masses of rock all over the gorge thus formed, you would have an idea of the soft of place in which our belated travellers found themselves. Yet even here there were little patches of cultivated ground, behind rocks and in out-of-the-way corners, where the poor inhabitants cultivated a little barley and grass for their cattle.

It was a lovely calm night. Had you been there, reader,