If the gipsies are not the dispersed Egyptians, where are that scattered people? If the dispersed and scattered gipsies are not the descendants of the offending Egyptians, what are they?

The Gipsies. By Samuel Roberts.

THE RAUMA—A LOFTY CLIMB—MORE RAIN—THE FOREST WALK—TENT LIFE—PEASANT FÊTE—NORWEGIAN DANCING—ZACHARIAH’S RIDE—THE WOOD CARVINGS—A PSALMODION—STUEFLAATEN—THE ROMSDAL—MAGNIFICENT SCENERY—ENGLISH SPOKEN.

Taking Noah down to the station, we purchased one mark of fladbrÖd, one mark of butter, and four skillings’ worth of soap. Esmeralda had used all our stock of soap. The quality of soap in some parts of Norway is indifferent. The kitchen was extremely hot; but we went into a small comfortable sitting-room, where we inspected photographs of various eminent men of Norway, and some carved spoons, during the few minutes we stayed. As we returned to the road, the old man asked us how far we were going, and seemed disappointed when we said, “Langt.” It is probable he wished to see our camp. Our party were soon following the banks of the river Rauma.

From the “Lesje Voerks Vand” the Logan flows south, and the Rauma, whose banks we had now reached, flows north. The picturesque lake, from which these two rivers have their source, is about one Norsk mile long. The Logan falls into the MjÖsen Lake at Lillehammer; the Rauma falls into the Isfjord, a branch of the Romsdal Fjord near Veblungsnoes. Romsdalen begins at Holsoet,58 near our camp at Loesje, and is about fifty-six miles long. The country through which we travelled on the banks of the Rauma was very beautiful. Molmen is a good fishing station. We saw some large trout in the Rauma, near Molmen. The same interest continued with regard to our donkeys. One peasant got out on the roof of his house to get a better view. At one place a peasant came after us, and suggested we should camp on some wild waste land through which our route passed, and across which the wind was coldly blowing. There was little shelter. The place was not inviting, and we had yet time to be fastidious in the selection of a camping ground. Having passed “Enebo,” we continued our route. Zachariah rode on the top of the baggage of one donkey, and occasionally played his violin. At length we came to a wild extent of open moorland, with mountains rising on either side. Over the plain, detached clumps of trees, gave the scene a more cheerful aspect. On the moorland’s edge, to the right, hanging woods covered the base of the mountains to a considerable height.

The picturesque mountain, called the Raanaa, dark in its wild clouds, and a mountain we understood as the Konokon, also the Kongel, the KolhÖ, and BÖverhÖ Mountains were before us. We turned off the route to the right across the moorland, and halted near a small lake by a clump of trees, in sight of a picturesque waterfall. The donkeys were unloaded in a cold wind and heavy rain. Two boys came up almost immediately, and, putting up our fishing-tackle, we followed them, with Zachariah, across the moorland to the left of our route, and, reaching the enclosure of a hanging wood on the steep bank of the Rauma, we were soon fishing in its stream. The water had a thick greenish hue. The wind was very cold, with occasional rain. Some of the throws were exceedingly good; but not a rise, and we returned in about an hour to our camp. Dinner consisted of three pounds of our dried meat, from Holaker, boiled with potatoes, rice, pea-flour, and reindeer moss, to flavour it. Very good it was: soup first, then meat, potatoes, and fladbrÖd, water being our beverage instead of tea when we had soup. A man and two boys came, and we gave the man brandy, and the two boys brandy-and-water. When the peasant took his brandy neat, he seemed thoroughly to appreciate it, and his visage bore marks of a fondness for aquavit. A tall, respectable-looking old man, in an ample black cloth dress coat, with a belt round it outside, to which his hunting-knife hung, and large gloves on, came up. They stood in the rain looking at us, as we sat in the wet enjoying our dinner, with the exception of the meat, which was too tough even for ourself and three hungry gipsies to masticate. The greatest part of the meat was put by, to be again made into soup.

Dinner being finished, and being extremely wet about the legs, we proposed to visit the waterfall we saw in the distance. It was about four o’clock, and Esmeralda accompanied us, whilst Noah and Zacharia remained in charge of the camp. Passing by the moorland lake, we were soon in the forest, sometimes nearly over our boots in wet marshy ground, and at other times climbing precipitous rocks, covered with moss and foliage, overhung with pine and birch. Our route was devious and uneven, damp and moist. The vand fos was given up. A beautiful bouquet of wild flowers was secured, and at six o’clock we sighted our camp. Our feet were wet through as we came up, and found our tents had been pitched by Noah in our absence. Changing our wet things, we had tea and fried trout in our tents. It was delightful to find ourselves comfortably seated in the luxuriousness and independent freedom of our tents, in sight of the forests and picturesque fields. A gentleman came whilst we were at tea, probably from his carriole, which he had left on the main route. As he walked round the tents, he bowed, and seemed much pleased with a scene illustrating nomadic life in wet weather.

The clouds cleared towards half-past eight, and the peasants made up a large fire for us. Then they came round the tent, and we sang our gipsy song and the “Mocking Bird,” with the guitar accompaniment.

The weather being new tolerably fine, we went to the fire and played some few airs. The peasants evidently wanted to dance. Two beaux of the village were as usual there: one a slim, short, pale young man, with black surtout coat; and the other a young man in ordinary peasant costume. They began dancing together to our music, and the pale young man took off his hat very politely to Esmeralda, who was seated in the tent. Finding the peasants wished to dance, and that the turf was too uneven, we went up to the road, and taking our waterproof to sit upon, the gipsies, Noah, Zachariah, and ourself played them a number of polkas. The two beaux of the village soon found two stout peasant girls for partners, and danced to an admiring audience. Noah danced with one; but he said she smelt so much of ointments he could not go on. The peasants seemed much pleased with the music—in fact, I believe we were improving. Zachariah played a Norwegian tune he had picked up on board the steamer going to Lillehammer, which seemed to suit them exactly. The pale young man in the surtout coat, and an active peasant girl, danced to it in a peculiar Norwegian step. We liked to see them. As they danced, sometimes the pale young man relinquished the waist of his partner, and they both turned the reverse way apart, keeping up the step till they again met once more, and whirled round rapidly together. The stillness of evening, with its freshness after rain, as the dancers waltzed in the midst of the wild moorland, to the sounds of the violin, guitar, and tambourine,—a thousand different dreams crowded upon our fancy. That Norwegian air!—again and again we played it, till our dancers were almost tired. The spectators apparently enjoyed looking on quite as well. There was the peasant who appreciated spirits, and many more. They are a good-humoured people. One peasant girl would insist upon Esmeralda coming up. The pale young man wished to dance with Esmeralda; but she would only dance once with her brother before he went to take her place at the tents. All things have an end. Our music ended. Wishing our friends, including our two beaux of the village, good night, we went to our tents, and the peasants soon after left. Esmeralda was rather unwell, for she had neglected to change her wet boots. Brandy-and-water was administered to Esmeralda and Noah. The night was damp and cold, and we could scarcely keep our feet warm.

Rising at about seven o’clock we went again to the Rauma; but fished without success. The morning was cold. Returning to breakfast, Esmeralda had prepared four eggs, tea, and fladbrÖd and butter, for the party. As the gipsies were striking our tents and loading our baggage a man and two boys came, and a little girl with some milk, but too late for our breakfast. She had brought it some little distance, and we bought it for five skillings. Leaving our camp, we passed the waterfall, and crossed a bridge, leaving the open moorland for the enclosed road. The river seemed well adapted for fish; but we do not think much sport can be obtained at this part of the Rauma. Very soon after we commenced our day’s journey, Zachariah, who had ridden on one of the loaded donkeys most of the previous day, wished to ride again. Occasionally we did not object; but our donkeys had already quite sufficient weight without the addition of Zachariah. His brother and sister were of the same opinion as ourself, and, although he alleged pain in his stomach, we suggested that walking would be its best antidote. With a wild waywardness of disposition, he soon after jumped on one of the loaded donkeys from behind, which resulted in his being pulled off with a shake, which, if it did not bring him to his senses, brought him to his feet for the rest of the day’s journey.

The Shorengro (gip., chief) of a party should be firm. Camp laws, as laid down before starting, should be adhered to. In matters requiring the decision of the directing mind, caution should be used. When settled, arrangements should be firmly acted upon; wavering and feebleness of purpose will soon ruin the success of any expedition; calm serenity of mind, and good temper through all difficulties, is indispensable. The peasants showed the same anxiety as usual to see our donkeys. The former station at Nystuen is now discontinued.

Before we reached Stueflaaten a reindeer-hunter came to us in the road, a thick-set intelligent man, dressed in good clothes and wearing long boots. The hunter spoke a little English. We went with him up to his house, close to the road. The large family room, used as kitchen and general room, was as badly ventilated as usual. Very seldom we ventured into the close atmosphere of the Norwegian farm-houses. There are, no doubt, exceptions. Many of the houses have very small windows, which do not open, and they are therefore closed winter and summer. The musketos and flies and heat are kept out, but then it is generally at the cost of fresh air, that invaluable health-producer, too lightly estimated. The room had a trap-door in the floor, with a ring to it, which somehow we always connect with a scene of mystery; some adventure requiring to be worked out with a melodramatic dÉnouement. The reindeer-hunter’s wife furnished us with some butter, two eggs, and some fladbrÖd, for which we paid one mark three skillings. The butter was of dark yellow colour, but we found it good. They had a very primitive weighing-machine, a short piece of round wood with a knob at one end, and a small hook at the other. The article to be weighed is hung on the hook, and the machine is balanced on the finger at certain marks, which indicate the weight. Several carved spoons, and an ingeniously carved butter-cup, were produced. For the butter-cup, which the reindeer-hunter had carved himself, he wanted three marks. At our request he reached a “Psalmodion” down—a very primitive Norwegian instrument—one string stretched over a flat board, played with a kind of fiddle-bow. The sound is neither harmonious or lively, though the hunter, who played it, was probably a good performer. There was much that was ancient and belonging to a past age, in the house. We afterwards bought one of his carved wooden spoons for ten skillings, which seemed to please the reindeer-hunter very much. The carved spoon was given to Esmeralda, and ultimately broken.

PRIMITIVE WEIGHING MACHINE.