Due North or Glimpses of Scandinavia and Russia, Maturin Murray Ballou [the gingerbread man read aloud TXT] 📗

very curious, half-telescopic view of the sea and the many islands lying in range. Such a place would be quite incomplete as a unique resort, and particularly in Scandinavia, without its special legend attached; but the one we heard upon the spot was far too extravagant and foolish to repeat in these pages. This mountain island is said to contain caves which extend some distance beneath the surrounding waters, but which are nevertheless perfectly dry. A story is told of one of these being the bridal chamber of a famous Viking in the olden time, and which is said to be only accessible by diving beneath the surface of the sea. Soon after leaving the perforated insular mountain, the "Seven Sisters" come into view. These are elevations about three thousand feet high, located upon the island of Alsten, which forms the west side of Vefsenfjord. They are of remarkable similarity in form, with deep valleys and dark gorges separating them. From the group there rolled back across the waters a whole broadside of echoes in response to the single boom of our forecastle gun fired for the purpose. These "Sisters" have stood here, in their craggy and solitary grandeur, unexplored and untrodden for perhaps twice ten thousand years. The peaks are far too perpendicular for human access. The course in this region is along the shore of what is called Nordland, extending longitudinally about forty miles, the interior of which has not yet been explored.

We had already passed latitude 66 deg. north, when the captain of the steamer casually remarked to a group of passengers that we must be on the look-out, for we should soon cross the line of the Arctic Circle. Young England was instantly on the alert, with his sticking eye-glass and fidgety manner, wanting to know what the "line" looked like. Intelligent glances were exchanged between a couple of gentlemen passengers, one of whom stepped into the captain's office and brought out a ship's spy-glass. After carefully sweeping the horizon with the instrument directed to the northwest, the gentleman thought that he discovered indications of the "line" already. In this supposition he was confirmed by his companion, after he also had taken a careful survey through the glass. Young England stood by, nervously jerking his eye-glass out of place and putting it back again, and anxious to get a peep; so he was kindly accommodated. He shouted almost immediately that he could see the "line," and indulged in rather boisterous demonstrations of satisfaction at the sight. Presently the gentleman who had borrowed the glass received it again; but before returning it to the captain's office he removed a small silk thread which had been extended across the object-glass. Young England in his simplicity never suspected the trick played upon his ignorance. The amateur photographer ("photographic fiend," as he was named by the passengers) was also on board with his portable machine, aiming it at everybody and everything. He too was an English cockney of the shallowest kind; but as regarded any pictorial results from the innocent machine which he set up all over the ship,--now on the bridge, now at the taffrail, and again on the forecastle,--there were none. Not a "negative" was produced during our eight days' voyage whereby one might judge whether the whole affair was a "blind" or otherwise. This youth was one degree less verdant than he with the sticking eye-glass, but yet he had an opinion to offer upon every topic of conversation, and was, as he believed, quite posted in all national and political matters at home and abroad. If he lives for a few years he will doubtless have less faith in his own wisdom, and will exhibit less conceit to others.

There is but one day in the year when the phenomenon of the midnight sun can be seen at the imaginary line which we designate as the Arctic Circle, a point twenty-three degrees and twenty-eight minutes from the North Pole; but by sailing some three hundred miles farther northward to the North Cape, the projecting point of the extreme north of Norway, it may be observed under favorable circumstances,--that is, when not obscured by clouds,--for over two months dating from the middle of May. Soon after passing the Arctic Circle, fourteen hundred and eight geographical miles from the North Pole, a singularly formed island is observed, called by the natives Hestmandoe, or Horseman's Island,--a rocky and mountainous formation of two thousand feet in height, more or less. On approaching the island from the west, by a liberal aid from the imagination one can discern the colossal figure of a horseman wrapped in his cloak and mounted on a charger. It forms a well-known landmark to all navigating the coast. The summit, it is believed, has never been reached by human feet.

The fishing village or town of Bodoee, on the main-land, is one of the regular stopping places for the steamers that ply on the coast. It contains some fifteen hundred inhabitants, all toilers of the sea, and is the chief town of Nordland. Some few of the houses are large and comfortable, being of modern construction, forming a strong contrast to the low turf-roofed log-cabins which are to be seen in such close proximity to them. There is an ancient stone church here which the traveller should find time to visit,--a quaint building, with a few antique paintings upon the walls and an atmosphere of past ages permeating its dim interior. Only the sacred rust of this old temple makes it worthy of attention. In and about the humble settlement lovely wild-flowers were observed in profusion,--an agreeable surprise, for we had hardly expected to find these "smiles of God's goodness" so far north, within the Arctic Circle. Among them were the butterfly-orchis and Alpine lady's-mantle, besides a goodly crop of primroses, all the more attractive because of the seemingly unpropitious region where they were blooming. Here our earnest but simple old friend the botanist revelled in his specialty, indeed lost himself as it seemed, for when we sailed he was nowhere to be seen, and was surely left behind. "Did he take his baggage with him?" we asked of an officer of the ship. "No, he had none," was the reply. And so we had parted from the absorbed gentle old scientist, without a word of farewell. Louis Philippe lived for a brief period at Bodoee when travelling as a refugee under the name of Mueller, and visitors are shown the room which he occupied. Under favorable circumstances the midnight sun is visible here for a period of about four weeks each season, and many persons tarry at Bodoee to obtain the desired view without the trouble of travelling farther northward. By ascending the lofty hill called Lobsaas, one gets here also a grand though distant view of the remarkable Lofoden Islands.

After leaving Bodoee the course of the steamers lies directly across the Vestfjord to the islands just referred to, whose jagged outlines have been compared to the teeth which line a shark's mouth. They lie so close together, particularly on the side by which we approached them, that no opening was visible in their long undulating mountain-chain until the vessel came close upon them and entered a narrow winding passage among rocks and cliffs which formed an entrance channel to the archipelago. In crossing the open sea which lies between the main-land and the islands rough weather is often encountered, but once within the shelter of the group, the waters become calm and mirror-like in smoothness. The passage through the myriad isles and from one to another, now rounding sharp points and now making a complete angle in the course, renders it necessary to "slow down" the steamer, so that she glides silently over the immense depths of dark waters as if propelled by some strange mysterious power below her hull. The Lofodens, owing to the clearness of the atmosphere as seen from Bodoee, appear to be about fifteen or twenty miles away on the edge of the horizon, but the real distance is nearly or quite fifty. The play of light and shade is here so different from that of lower latitudes that the atmosphere seems at times to be almost telescopic, and the most experienced traveller finds himself often deceived in judging of distances.

A little to the westward of the steamer's course in coming hither from the main-land lies the famous vortex known as the Maelstroem, the theme of many a romance and wild conjecture which lives in the memory of every schoolboy. At certain stages of the wind and tide a fierce eddy is formed here, which is perhaps somewhat dangerous for very small boats to cross, but the presumed risk to vessels of the size of common coasting-craft under proper management is an error. At some stages of the tide it is difficult even to detect the exact spot which at other times is so disturbed. Thus we find that another fact of our credulous youth turns out to be a fable, with a very thin substratum of fact for its foundation. The tragedies recorded in connection with the Venetian Bridge of Sighs are proven to be mostly gross anachronisms; the episode of Tell and the apple was a Swiss fabrication; and now we know that neither ships nor whales were ever drawn into the Norwegian Maelstroem to instant destruction. There are several other similar rapids in and about these pinnacled islands, identical in their cause, though the one referred to is the most restless and formidable.

On close examination the Lofodens were found to consist of a maze of irregular mountain-peaks and precipices, often between two and three thousand feet in height, the passage between them being very tortuous, winding amid straits interspersed with hundreds of small rocky islets which were the home of large flocks of sea-birds. "It seemed," as was expressively remarked by a lady passenger, "like sailing through Switzerland." Dwarf-trees, small patches of green grass and moss grew near the water's edge, and carpeted here and there a few acres of level soil; but the high ridges were bleak and bare rock, covered in spots with never-melting snow and ice. Most of the coast of Norway is composed of metamorphic rock; but these islands are of granite, and for marvellous peaks and oddly-pointed shapes, deep, far-reaching gulches and canyons, are unequalled elsewhere. It seemed to us marvellous that a steamer could be safely navigated through such narrow passages and among such myriads of sunken rocks. These elevations from beneath the sea varied from mere turtle-backs, as the sailors called them, just visible above the water, to mountains with sky-kissing peaks. For a vessel to run upon one of the low hummocks would be simply destruction, the water alongside being rarely less than two or three hundred fathoms in depth. Fortunately the sea is mostly quite smooth within the shelter of the archipelago, otherwise steam-vessels would rarely enter it. The compass is brought but little into use. The pilots distinguish rocks and promontories by their peculiar physiognomy, and they steer from point to point with remarkable accuracy, arriving and departing from given stations with the variation of but a few minutes from the time laid down upon their schedules. Each steamer running upon the coast carries two pilots, independent of the other officers of the ship, one of whom is always at the wheel when the vessel is under way. They are chosen for their responsible character and their knowledge of the route, and they very justly command high wages. We stopped briefly at Henningsvaer, the centre of the Lofoden cod-fishery establishments. It is a small town situated at the base of the Vaagekelle Mountain, an elevation between three and four thousand feet high. The place smells rank to heaven of dried fish and cod-liver oil, the combined stench of which articles, with that of decaying refuse lying everywhere,