Passing the Östudfoss, I struck straight up Steindalen, purposing to pass a place called Teigen, and thence over to the Samnanger Fjord, on my road to Bergen. My hulking guide, Thorsten Thormundson, who, from his height, had been chosen as the front man of his regiment, was but a poor fellow notwithstanding. Having started later than we ought, we did not reach our destination before dark; and as there was not the smallest vestige of a path through the morasses, we had nearly walked over a cliff into a lake before I was aware of our danger. Luckily, we at last found a cot, and a boy conducted us to our destination.

After an uncomfortable night in a miserable hole of a cottage, I received the agreeable intelligence from my attendant, that he did not know the way any further, and wished to leave me. I informed him that he was quite welcome to do so, but if he did, he must go minus all pay. Upon this, the giant put on a very martial air, but seeing that I was not to be bullied, he prepared for the journey, employing a little maiden to show the way.

It was lucky for us that he did so, for the road was intricate beyond description. The old St. Giles’s rookery may serve as a comparison, for want of a better one. Being ahead, I was marching straight forward, when I was recalled by the shrill voice of the bare-footed lassie.

“On there,” she said, “was a precipice, over which Brat-foss poured. There was not foot-hold for a goat that way. We must try and get through the bog to the left, and so round by Raune bottom.”

It was a bottom indeed—cliffs all round, with a treacherous swamp and streams flowing all manner of ways; and then came another descent, the girl leading the pony, and the man pulling hard at its tail by way of drag.

The progress was so slow that I sat down, from time to time, to look about me. In one place I found I was close upon a great ant-hill, a yard high, from whence I perceived a regular line was formed to a neighbouring pine-tree. Up the bole of this a number of these industrious insects were ascending and descending with most exemplary perseverance; though I could not see that, either going or returning, they went otherwise than empty away. I tapped the tree with my stick, when in the twinkling of an eye the ascending and descending squadrons put themselves in a posture of defence; that is to say, each of them threw itself on its back, with its head reared up, and its tail protruded. In a moment or two, when all was quiet, they, as if by signal, unfixed their bayonets, and recommenced their march.

In another part of our round-about walk I sat down by a stream side, and began making rainbows—yes, rainbows. The sun shone straight up the valley, and the wind was blowing in the same direction. I threw a stone into the clear torrent right among some watching trout, and from the spot where it struck an iris immediately threw out its tricoloured arch athwart the stream, slowly disappearing as the spray, upheld for a second or two by the wind, again subsided on the water.

If my friend the Irishman was to find a pot of gold for getting hold of the rainbow, what luck was in store for me who had actually made one? But the augury was a treacherous one, as we shall see.

Following the stream, which abounded in most captivating looking holes, to my piscatorial eye, we at length reach the farm of Tyssen, whence a beautiful view is obtained across the head of the Samnanger Fjord, with the church of Samnanger lying under the mountains at the further side. As bad luck would have it, not a soul was at home. The only biped I saw was a statuesque heron standing on a stone by the boat-house. What was to be done? It was my object to obtain a boat here and sail down the Fjord to Hatvigen, where I should be on the great coast road, and not many miles from Bergen.

In this dilemma I descried a little man emerge from the quern, or corn-mill, which stood at the bottom of the stream, near some salmon traps. Perhaps he was only the mill-goblin, but at any rate I would hail him. He took no notice. It must be the Quern knurre. But perhaps the noise of the stream rushing over the rocks into the Fjord drowned my voice, and prevented it being heard; so I and the loutish Thorsten clubbed lungs, when the figure looked round, and immediately walked away. Mr. Thorsten Thormundson wished to be off and leave me to my fate; but I positively forbid him to move until we had discovered some means of conveyance. Presently the small figure reappeared, accompanied by a female figure. We hailed again, and this time the mannikin walked to a boat and came across to us. He was a poor peasant from the mountains, who had been buying a sack of corn for four dollars three marks, which would serve him and three mouths till “Michelsmass,” and he and his wife had come hither to grind it. The grinding must be finished, and the meal carried up to his distant home before night. Nevertheless he would row me, he said, half a Norwegian mile, where he thought I might get another boatman.

When we had rowed some distance we descry some people making hay on the lea.

“Would they row me?”

“Had no time. But they had a husman in a cottage hard by, who perhaps could do it.”

My man landed, and went in search of the said husman. A tiny little man in rags, much smaller than the mill-goblin, with a very tiny voice, and a still more tiny boy, appear and undertake the job, provided I give him time to have some mad (meat) first. Although the boat was very leaky, and though at one place we encountered a good deal of swell from the effects of a gale out at sea, we manage by night-fall to reach Hatvigen.

On the road we meet a boat full of boys and girls, who have been several miles to be examined by the clergyman for confirmation. We little know the hardships to which these people are subject. Only a few days ago, a boat similarly laden, and on a similar errand, was upset by a sudden squall, and about a dozen unfortunate young people drowned.

Nothing particular caught my eye next day, as I drove along the coast to Bergen, beyond the new telegraphic line which is just completing to Bergen. Some of the posts are the growing pine-trees, which happen to stand ready fixed for the purpose. Another telegraphic cable is making for a part of the coast to advertize people of the approach of the herrings. This will be the future sea-serpent of the country.

I was not sorry to sleep that night under the roof of Madame Sontum at Bergen. Next day, under the auspices of a German physician, I visit the Leper Hospital on the hill above the town. It is a magnificent building of wood, lately constructed by the State, at an expense of sixty thousand dollars, and kept up from the same source, private donations being unusual. Three years ago the old hospital was burned down at dead of night, and eight unfortunates were consumed. The present spacious building can accommodate two hundred and eighty patients; at present there are only one hundred and eighty inmates. In the JÖrgen Spital there are one hundred and thirty, and a few in another hospital in the town. This disease is generally supposed to be incurable. About twenty-five per cent. die in the course of the year. The chaplain, a burley, good-looking man, was in his canonicals, and about to bury a recently deceased patient on our arrival; he descanted on the horrors of the place.

With these I became personally acquainted on the arrival of Dr. L——, the physician of the establishment.

“Now, gentlemen, if you please,” said that functionary, putting on a blouse of black serge; “but I warn you it is a terrible sight.”

Well, thought I to myself, I will go notwithstanding. The best antidote to the imaginary ills of this life, is to become acquainted with the real ones.

Walking along the spacious corridors, we first entered a room devoted to male cases. Here, as in all the other rooms, there were six beds. I conversed with one man. This case was not yet at a bad stage. He had suffered much hardship in his youth as a seaman, was often wet, and badly fed withal. By dint of industry, he became owner of a jagt, and he said he hoped to get out again and be well enough to take the command of it.

Another man in a bed close by was affected with the smooth leprosy. He attributed it to his having slept in the same bed with a man affected with the disease. He was worn to the bone, and his face and body were blotched and copper-coloured. But before pursuing our melancholy walk, I will just glance at a small tract which has been published by the Government in respect to this foul and mysterious disease, which, after having been driven out of the other countries of Europe, still holds its ground on the sea-coast of Norway, especially from Stavanger northwards.

There are two sorts of leprosy, which are so very dissimilar in their outward symptoms, that one would hardly imagine that they are the same disease; the one is called the knotted leprosy, the other the smooth leprosy. The first indications of the poison being in the system are lassitude and stiffness in the limbs. The body feels unusually heavy and disinclined to exertion. Sharp pains rack the frame, especially when it is warm, or on the eve of a change of weather. Cold shudderings also supervene, succeeded presently by fever; together with pains in the head, thirst and loss of appetite. All this is accompanied by general listlessness and depression of spirits. Another symptom is a strong inclination to sleep, though sleep brings no refreshment to the limbs.

In knotted leprosy, red spots and sores break out upon the body, especially on the face, which becomes much swollen. These are not accompanied with pain, and often disappear again; but with a new attack of fever they re-appear, and at last become permanent. They now grow larger and larger—some of the knots attain the size of a hazel nut—and are generally of a yellow-brown colour, with occasionally a tint of blue. They are most frequent on the arms, hands, and face, but most of all about the eyebrows, which fall off in consequence. After a period of time—which is shorter or longer as the case may be—pain is felt in these knots, and they then either turn into regular sores, or become covered with a brown crust. The eyes, mouth, and throat are next attacked, and the eye-sight, breathing and swallowing are affected.

In smooth leprosy, the symptoms are large blisters and white spots, together with great pain and tenderness in various parts of the body. These vesicles are from the bigness of a hazel-nut to that of a hen’s egg, and are filled with a watery fluid. They are situated about the elbows and knees, occasionally under the sole of the foot, and elsewhere, and soon burst. The spots, which in the smooth leprosy occur on the body, are not brown, as in the knotted leprosy, but white, and of a larger size, sometimes being as big as a man’s hand; they are covered with white scales. The pain and tenderness which occur in this kind of leprosy gradually disappear, and are followed by utter absence of feeling. At this stage fire or the knife can be applied to the parts diseased without the patient feeling it in the least. A large portion of the body can be thus affected. The patient now begins to get thin, his skin is dry, and his countenance distorted. He can’t shut his eyes, and he is not able to bring his lips together, so as to cover the teeth; besides this, the toes and fingers become contracted and rot off.

Curiously enough symptoms of both these horrible phases of a most loathsome disorder occur in one and the same person; in that case the knotted leprosy occurs first, and the knots gradually vanishing, the smooth leprosy supervenes.

This frightful malady has been ascertained to be hereditary, that is to say, it can be transmitted by either parent to their offspring. At first the children seem to be quite healthy, but they conceal within their system the hidden germs of the complaint, which may at any time break out. Sometimes such children never do betray the presence of the poison, certain defective sanitary conditions being necessary for its development. But, notwithstanding, the disease may come out in the third generation. The most favourable circumstances for its development are an irregular way of life, defective clothing, bad lodging or diet, want of personal cleanliness, and mental anxiety. Under such circumstances, persons who have no hereditary tinge may take the complaint. It is not contagious in the strict sense of the word, but experience seems to show that persons who live in intercourse with leprous persons are very prone to become so themselves. A remarkable illustration of this occurred in Nord-Fjord. The owners of a gaard took the leprosy, and died. The farm was inherited by another family, who became infected with the disease, and died of it. A third family, who succeeded to the dwelling, also perished of the malady. On this, the owner of the house burnt it down.

The Government authorities finally recommend, as a means of getting rid of this dreadful disease, personal and household cleanliness, proper apparel and lodging, wholesome diet (especially abstinence from half-rotten fish), moderation, particularly in the consumption of spirituous liquors; and, above all, they deprecate intermarriage among those so affected. The present number of lepers in Norway is two thousand and fifty odd, or about one in every seven thousand.

But to proceed with our walk through the hospital. In another ward set apart for males, I addressed a lump of what did not look like humanity, and asked how old he was. The answer was sixteen. He looked sixty. His voice—oh heavens! to think that the human voice divine could have become degraded to that hoarse grating, snuffling sound, the dry husk of what it ought to be!

Close by this case was a man whose face was swollen immensely, and over the brows huge knots and folds of a dark tint congregated together. His face looked more like a knotted clump in the bole of a tree than a human countenance. Sitting on a bed in another room was a boy whose face was literally eaten through and through, and honeycombed as if by malignant cancer. Nobody can witness all this without realizing to himself more completely the power of Him who could cure it with a mere touch.

Crossing the passage, I saw a nice, pretty little girl playing about.

“She is all right at present,” said the doctor, “but both her sisters showed it at her age, and her parents died of it. She is here to be taken care of.”

On the women’s side, one of the first cases that caught my attention was an old woman with the septum of the nose gone, and groaning with intense agony. Near her was a woman whose toes and fingers had disappeared, and for the present the complaint was quiescent. Indeed, one of the not least frightful symptoms of the disease is, that after a toe or finger is gone the sore heals up, but suddenly breaks out afresh higher up the limb. Unlike a person in an adjoining bed, who shrieked out for fear she should be touched—so sensitive was her flesh—this poor thing had lost all sense of feeling. When I touched her, at the doctor’s request, she could feel nothing.

One blue-eyed girl, with a fair skin and well combed hair, looked well in the face, but the doctor said her body was in a terrible state.

As I walked round the room, I observed another young woman, stretched on a bed in the corner, with dark luxuriant hair—very un-Norwegian in tint—and with peculiarly bright flashing eyes, with which she gazed at me steadfastly.

“Come hither,” said the doctor to me; “shut your eyes, Bergita.”

The poor thing gave a faint smile, and slightly moved her lids; but this was all. She will never shut those eyes again, perhaps, not even in death.

In another bed was a woman with her teeth uncovered and lips apart.

“Now, mother, try and shut your lips.”

A tremulous movement of the lower jaw followed, but the muscles would not work; the disease had destroyed the hinges, and there she lay, mouth open, a spectacle of horror.

In some cases—indeed, very many—when the disease has seriously set in, it throws a white film over the iris of the eye, the pupil becomes contracted, the ball loses its colour, becomes a whitish mass, and gradually rots out of the socket. Each patient had a religious book by his side, and some sat on the bed or by it reading. They all seemed unrepining at their lot. One poor woman wept tears of gladness when I addressed a word or two of consolation to her. Indeed, the amount of pain felt by these poor sufferers is very small in comparison with what might have been expected from the marks of the fell talons imprinted on their frames. The doctor said they were chiefly carried off at last by hectic fever. Scurvy ointment is used in many cases, frequent cupping in others. One poor woman, with a leg like an elephant’s, so deformed and shapeless was it, declined amputation. And there she will go on, the excessive sensitiveness to pain succeeded by an utter anÆsthetic state, and one extremity rotting off after another, till she is left a mere blotched trunk, unless a merciful death relieve her before.

One poor woman had been afflicted for no less than fifty years; her parents, if I remember rightly, were free from the malady, but her grandfather and grandmother had suffered from it. But we have seen enough of this melancholy place. It is a satisfaction to know that, at all events, although the disease cannot be cured by medicine or any other remedy, yet as much is done as possible to alleviate its miseries. The surgeon and chaplain are daily in attendance; abundance of active young women—not old gin-drinking harridans—discharge the office of nurses. The diet is much better than these people would obtain at home. I examined the spacious kitchens, and learned that meat is served thrice a-week to the patients, not to mention soups, puddings, &c. It has been asserted that the disease has lately been on the increase in Norway, but this statement is based most likely on insufficient data.

In the rest of Europe, Scotland especially, to judge from all accounts, it was at one time as bad as it is now in this country. Neither was it confined to the lower classes. Robert Bruce died of it. But as it is now almost, if not altogether, exterminated in Scotland, there seems no reason why, if the advice of the Government above-mentioned is followed, it should not also die out in Scandinavia. In other respects, the population is healthy and strong, and not affected by goÎtre or any of the usual mountain complaints.

We now took leave of the doctor; my friend, the German physician, who was specially interested in the effect produced on the sight by the disease, appointed the next day for a microscopic examination of some of the patients’ eyes in early stages of the disorder. It may be as well to state that Professor Danielson has published a work illustrating by plates the progress of the disorder. Inoculation is also about to be tried as a method of cure, it having been used with success in this country in another disease, many symptoms of which, to a non-professional observer at least, are identical in appearance with those above described.

“Farewell!” said the doctor; “I have shown you a sad spectacle. I am sorry I can’t converse with you in your own language. But the next generation will all speak English. It has just been proposed in the Storthing that, in the middle schools, less Latin shall be taught, and English made a necessary branch of education.”

Before leaving Bergen I visited the museum, under the auspices of the very obliging curator, Dr. Korn.

Here is a specimen of a new kind of starfish (Beryx Borealis), discovered by AsbjÖrnsen. The only habitat yet known of this animal is the SÖrfjord. The Glesner Regalicus was also here. It is found in very deep water, and so rarely that, in three hundred years, only two or three specimens had been met with.

Some embryo whales of different degrees of maturity were also preserved in spirits; specimens of these delicate little monsters are not, I believe, to be found in any other museum of Europe. The Strix Funerea, or Hawk Owl, such as I shot in the Malanger, with its beautiful black and white plumage, was also to be seen. Especially beautiful was the Anas Stellaris from beyond the North Cape.

The usual assortment of old Runic calendars and other mementoes of ancient days were not wanting: not to mention one of those enigmatical Jette gryde (fairy pots) with which the vulgar have connected all sorts of stories. It is composed of two parts, a mortar-shaped cavity in stone, and in this a loose, round cannon-ball sort, also of stone. Here were evidently cause and effect. A loose stone happening to be brought by the stream into a depression in the rocky bed of the torrent, by the action of water becomes itself round, after the manner of a marble, and makes its resting-place round too. The countenances of people who live continually together are often observed to become like. In the same way the perforated and rounded stones which are formed by trituration in the channels of the brooks on the Scottish borders are still termed, says Scott, by the vulgar, fairy cups and dishes.

Before leaving Bergen, I must not omit to record an incident which really speaks much for the good-nature of these people.

“Will you tell me, sir,” said I, accosting a jolly, bearded gentleman, in the street, “which is the best bookseller in Bergen?”

“Certainly, sir; come this way, I will show you.”

We entered the shop of the bookseller, whose snuffling, sobbing method of talk convinced me at once that he was a Dane. The language is a nerveless, flabby sing-song, gasped out with bated breath. The Norwegian speaks out like a man, and with a pith and marrow in his pronunciation worthy of the rugged power with which one always associates in idea the name of Norway.

The pale bibliopole, after carefully shutting the door, which I had purposely left open—so close and oppressive was the atmosphere of the unventilated shop—fumbled about for a little time, and then discovered that the book I wanted was out of print.

“Oh! never mind,” said the stranger, “I have got a copy, which is very much at your service.”

And in spite of my protestations, this amiable gentleman, whom I afterwards discovered to be Professor C——, an author of some repute, conducted me to his house, placed refreshments before me, and compelled me to take the book, the cost of which was considerable. Indeed, all books in Norway are very dear, which may account for the fewness of readers.

Two matters of considerable importance stirred Bergen to its innermost core while I was there. What do you think they were, reader? Gas has been introduced, and to-night is the first night of lighting it. What a number of people are moving about to see it, as we go on board the steamer Jupiter, bound for Hamburg. The other incident was productive of no less ferment. Ole Bull, the prince of fiddlers, the Amphion of the American wilds, sick apparently of combining the office of leader of a colony, and musician-in-chief to the new community, has just returned to this, his native place, and is about to give a concert, to inaugurate his assumption of his new office of director of the Bergen Theatre.