The gipsies are not destitute of good qualities. They have a species of honour; so that, if trusted, they will not deceive or betray you.

The Gipsies. By Samuel Roberts.

CAMP ON LILLE MJÖSEN—THE SKJYRI FJELD—AN ACQUAINTANCE FROM EISBOD—CAMP RULES CONFIRMED—OUR GIPSY NOAH—ENGLISH SPOKEN—SINGULAR STONE—ILOE STATION—OUR FRIEND FROM EISBOD—ARTIST SOUVENIRS—ZACHARIAH’S SPORT—FAST TRAVELLING—HARVEST TIME—SECLUDED CAMP—ABLE PLEADING—THE STEE STATION—OBLIGING-HOSTESS—TETHER ROPE LOST—THE KINDLY WELCOME—AN ENGLISHMAN’S WISH—AN OPEN AIR CONCERT—ESMERALDA’S FLOWERS—ADIEU, BUT REMEMBERED—A MID-DAY REST.

A wild river on the left of the road soon found its outlet in a small lake. A man and woman, in a boat upon the lake, were fishing with a net; soon afterwards we came to Oye on the “Lille MjÖsen Vand.” We purchased five eggs at a house near the road, for five skillings; and the young Norwegian girl showed us a curious violin they had in the house. The Lille MjÖsen is a very beautiful and picturesque lake; the road lay through wooded slopes, on the right bank, steep rocky cliffs towered above us. Before reaching Tune, we came to a charming grassy knoll, immediately above the road; the small stony gully, on one side, was convenient for the donkeys to graze. A large forest of spruce fir surrounded the knoll on all sides, except towards the road, below which the stony shingly shore of the lake extended; above the forest slope were some lofty picturesque rocks. From the knoll, we had a delightful view across the lake, which was not very broad at this part. On the opposite shore, the Skjyri Fjeld rose in very lofty steeps, almost immediately from the waters of the lake. We noticed also, on the other side, one small gaard, lonely by itself, on a narrow slip of reclaimed land, a few acres, between the water, and the base of the precipice, which rose almost straight to lofty summits, covered here and there by fir wood.

Our knoll was delightfully shut in and secluded; the lofty trees of the spruce fir stretched to the base of the cliff above. So steep were they, that verdure could not exist. Although only four o’clock, the camp ground was so tempting, we determined to halt. Noah and Zachariah fished in the lake without success. The evening was very warm and sunny. Our aftens-mad consisted of tea, fladbrÖd, eggs, and butter.

At the Skogstad Station, we had had one mark’s worth of fladbrÖd, and the bottle of ale cost twelve skillings, the usual price. Our violin three dollars, the price at first asked. A few carrioles passed underneath during the evening, but the travellers did not observe us. Our music in the stillness of evening sounded across the lake, In the dim light, we could see a fire on the other shore. The evenings now get more damp, night begins sooner. Quite late, as Noah was putting up our tent, a Stolkjoere came by; the traveller pulled up, and, to our surprise, we again met our acquaintance of the Bygdin Lake, the young gentleman who wore the uniform tunic. We welcomed him as an old friend; he said he had come to a certain point on the route with the ladies, and they had met Ole. Our friend said he had parted from the other visitors we met at the “Poet’s House,” and hoped to be in Christiania on Sunday. We gave him one of our best cigars, which he said were not often met with in the mountains. A short chat, of course, about the war, and we parted, probably to meet again in Christiania.

Near our tents there was an exceedingly large nest of creas (gip., ants), as my people called them. Their communistic ideas were at once apparent; they swarmed about our camp, taking away all they could carry.

They had three large tracks diverging from their nest to the road, down which thousands were hastily hurrying to and fro; it was very interesting to watch them. Nature has an ever-varied, and instructive page to set before you at every step.

Going out of our tents the last thing, we were astounded at what we saw by the camp fire. The appearance of a Huldre (fairy), or a Jotul (giant), could not have astonished us more. Noah was seated, and actually smoking a pipe; it was as the French say, “un peu trop fort,” camp rules infringed, laws broken, what next? we of course spoke upon the subject.

We shall not trouble our readers with our Nicotian lecture. It was in vain Noah advanced that smoking was better than chewing; we were firm. He had given his word, knew the camp rules, and we could not have any future confidence in any man who broke his word with us. Noah, with a melancholy look, slowly put out his pipe, and it disappeared. “You shall not say I am a liar, sir; I shall keep my word, as I have promised.” After all, Noah, in his wild way, is not a bad fellow; he has been thrown into all kinds of temptation, without care, or instruction of any sort, leading a wild wandering life, yet, throughout our campaign, we never heard him once utter an oath. It is more than we can say with regard to many others we have met, persons more educated, and with better opportunities. Yes, Noah is tolerably steady; notwithstanding, a few cigars, and a little brandy, might be much imperilled if placed in his way. We must however give Noah his due, to us he was ever ready to do his share in the rough work of our Norwegian wanderings. We must ever take an interest in Noah’s fate.

It is Thursday the 11th of August, the morning is very fine, our party up at twenty minutes past four o’clock. Our fladbrÖd was exhausted; nineteen college biscuits were allowed to each, with butter and tea for breakfast. The morning was cold till we had the sun upon the valley. The Lille MjÖsen is a charming lake. Our party were soon off.

We had not long left our camp, when we met a gentleman carrying an umbrella to shade himself from the morning sun. He was a Norwegian clergyman, who spoke English very well, and had been staying with an English family in Christiania. Evincing much interest in our expedition, he kindly gave us some very useful suggestions with regard to our future route. The route he suggested as best suited for camping purposes, and as also being very picturesque, was vi Kroemmermoen, the Spirilen Lake and the Krogkleven. When he left us to continue his walk, we immediately afterwards reached an inn, which appeared very comfortable; several travellers were staying there. They were attired in their best wearing apparel, and were evidently enjoying a summer tour. We tried to get some KagebrÖd; all they could offer us were some very seedy pieces of bread, rather mouldy, and one piece of fladbrÖd, which Noah could have demolished at a mouthful. The bread we left, but a pound of fresh butter, at twenty-two skillings, we took with us.

Soon afterwards a man came running after us in breathless haste; our donkeys were the object of attraction; great was his admiration before he left us.

In a roadside churchyard we soon after passed, we believe it was Vang, there is a singular stone, carved with an interesting relief, and an inscription.

In some churchyards we passed in Norway, a mere cross of wood marks the grave. Now and then we observed a railing round a grave, and occasionally, but very seldom, a marble head-stone, with an inscription. Then we came to birch woods, and a beautiful road along the side of the lake. Sometimes, as we journeyed close to the water edge, shaded by lofty rocks, our gipsies, as they caught sight of the large trout, would exclaim—“Dawdy, what a borrieck matcho!”112

In the Lille Mjosen, we observed nets set with floats. Spruce fir is the predominant tree of this district. The scenery is very beautiful; wood, mountain, rock, and water in great perfection.

Our gipsies pushed the donkeys on rapidly; some- times on the trot. About one o’clock we saw to the right of the road “Öiloe Station.”

We were delighted with the scenery of this place. Sending Esmeralda and Zachariah on with the baggage, with instructions to halt at the first convenient place, we went with Noah up the road to the station.

We had to forage for bread. The mistress of the station, a portly good-natured woman, looked out of an upstairs window, as we came up. When we entered the old house, we were surprised to meet our friend, from the “Poet’s House,” at the Bydgin Lake. It seems he was waiting for a carriole to take him on. Through his kind assistance, the mistress spared us part of a loaf, six eggs, and some fladbrÖd, for sixteen skillings. Noah at once took possession of the provisions.

The mistress, who was a fine-looking woman, possessing some remains of former beauty, took us upstairs. It was a sort of large guest room, with two windows, and three or four beds. The station seemed to have been a perfect nest of artists. We were not surprised. The scenery around was lovely. Not that it was as impressive, as that we had lately left; but all the elements which entrance, and captivate the mind, of those who seek nature, were there. The artists had left their marks. One artist of the name of Lorck, had, on the morning of his departure, painted his watch on the wall, above the head of his bed. When he had left, the pige, thinking he had forgotten it, attempted to take it down. Another had painted a key on the wall, almost, if not quite equal to the one on the wall of Wiertz’s celebrated, and singular MusÉe at Bruxelles. There was also a landscape scene painted on the wall, of another part of the room, over one of the beds.

Of course the pencil of an industrious countryman was busy- “W.J. Phillips, Prestwich, 20-7-70.” Then we were shown a small likeness of Eckersberg the artist, which represented him as dressed in a red coat; the portrait had been painted by himself. We were told he had died three weeks before our visit, and the artist would never again visit the scenes which had afforded so many subjects for his pencil.

Then the hostess produced two girdles for sale, the owners being poor and wanting money. We at last bought one of the girdles as a souvenir—a Norwegian maiden’s girdle.

An engraving is now given of the belt. The ornaments and fastening are all in brass. The only similar belt we saw in Norway, was worn by the little dark woman, who visited our tents at Laugaard.

The hostess afterwards brought us some milk, for which she would not make any charge. In fact, our Bygdin friend, the hostess, ourself, and Noah, had quite a delightful conversazione. Vague news was of course given about the war.

When we had just descended the extremely primitive stairs, and were going out of the door, the husband met us. He gave a sort of suppressed shriek, when he saw Noah with the provisions. Our friend from the Bygdin Lake, and the man’s tall wife, said some words to him. Noah had certainly not taken the watch and key painted on the guest-room wall. Whatever they said, the effect was magical; the husband disappeared. With kindly salutations, we left the abode of artists.

What a charming spot Esmeralda had selected for the mid-day’s halt, at a short distance from the station, where the road traversed some new-mown, parky-looking ground, open to the road; they had unloaded near a clump of trees.

The river from the Lille MjÖsen Lake, broken into picturesque rapids, was close to us. Esmeralda was seated midst the baggage, and the donkeys were grazing near. Zachariah was at once started to fish for the commissariat, and afterwards returned with seven delicious trout; one was a very fine one, one foot three inches long; beautifully pink. For our middags-mad, we had eggs, potatoes, fladbrÖd, and cheese. Our friend from the Bygdin Lake, soon after passed along the road, en route to Christiania, and waved his adieux. Several carrioles and carriages passed along the road towards Bergen. Some were apparently English travellers, and seemed rather astonished to see a party of gipsies near the roadside.

Occasionally the travellers looked with curious interest, as they contemplated, en passant, our mode of travelling. It was a glorious warm sun, and we enjoyed our halt amid the lovely scene.

The animals are reloaded, and we are odd at half-past three o’clock. Shortly afterwards we were overtaken by a German smoking in his stolkjoerre. Very much interested he seemed in our cavalcade, and evidently took us for strolling players and musicians. He passed, and then pulled up; stared, lingered, and ultimately offered Esmeralda a seat in his stolkjoerre. She declined his offer. Then he pressed it. We then came up, and told him our party always preferred walking. He asked us what we performed, and begged our pardon when he was told we travelled for our pleasure, with our tent, and baggage, to see the country.

The German said—“You are looking well; it agrees with you. I prefer to travel faster. I do fourteen Norsk miles a day (ninety-eight English). Wish you all a pleasant journey.” And he drove off towards Christiania.

The road was very pleasant. Sometimes through forest, sometimes through the cultivated enclosure of a gaard. A young Norwegian passed us at one place, who spoke English. In passing through a forest, Noah picked up a small spruce fir which was uprooted, and was lying by the way. This replaced his broken alpenstock. It was carefully peeled, and made into a respectable walking staff.

At a short distance from Stee, we came in sight of the river, and a fall of water, near some saw-mills, apparently closed during the absence of the workmen at the harvest. All were now busy in the fields. In Norway the summer is short. To harvest quickly is a matter of pressing necessity. Everything gives place to the harvest. A tolerably quick man on a farm, we were told, earned about twenty dollars a year wages—rather more than four pounds English—his food lodging, two pairs of shoes and two pairs of stockings, and two shirts. Men engaged by the day receive, we were told, about one mark twelve skillings.

Near the mills, a stream of water crossed the road from a thick wood on the left. The stream afterwards joined the river near the mills. Through the wood, there was a pathway leading to some open broken ground surrounded by trees. It was a pleasant secluded spot, not far from the road. Here we camped. Our aftens-mad consisted of fried trout, tea, and barley-meal cakes made in the frying pan. Zachariah caught seven trout, and Noah three trout, in the river. We went after tea to fish, but it was almost dark, and we returned to our camp.

In the early morning, at twenty minutes to four o’clock, when we got up, the air was rather cold. Our fire being lighted, we had for breakfast fried trout, fladbrÖd, and tea. Zachariah went fishing, whilst Noah was having his matutinal wash. Esmeralda, seated near the fire, commenced. She was sorely grieved to think we should part with the donkeys. The poor animals would be left to be ill used in a strange country. She did not like to part with things she was used to, after they had gone with us so many miles. She looked as if we were going to have them shot immediately after we arrived at Christiania.

She pleaded so earnestly on their behalf, that she would have won the heart of any one of the members of the Humane Society, if he had been present.

What could we do? One, of course, was promised to our friend the chevalier; but the other two? These were not promised. We, of course, took what our hobbenengree had said into consideration.

It was a lovely morning, when the sun was up. In the first burst of its splendour, we watched its broken rays, gild the waters of the shaded stream, near our camp. How rich in colouring, the tinted moss on the broken rocks. We could have lingered long in contemplation. Yet our party must quickly move. Our tents are struck, and we are again en route.

Zachariah tried with his rod and line, as we went along the road, but without success, and at last he put up his tackle.

Shortly afterwards we arrived at the Stee Station. The house was not far from the road on our left. Taking Noah with us, we went up to purchase for our commissariat.

The guest-chamber is tolerably large, and well lighted, but not very lofty. All the furniture was in the old Norwegian style. On the walls we noticed likenesses of Prindsesse Alexandra og Prindsen af Wales; also Eugenie Keiserinde and Napoleon 3rd Keiser af Frankrig.

Two travellers appeared below with carrioles. The very civil and obliging mistress, we supposed her to be, of the Stee Station, soon provided us with a beautifully cooked pink trout from the Slidre Fjord, fladbrÖd, eggs and potatoes and butter, for which we paid—

Then our young Norwegian hostess came down to the road, with one or two piges of the house, to see our donkeys, and have a chat with us, each knowing very little of what the other said. Yet it is astonishing how we managed to make ourselves understood, with our small vocabulary of Norwegian words. They wanted us to play, but Zachariah’s violin was out of order, and time pressed. Bidding them all farewell, we were once more en route.

The Stee Station is pleasantly situated, not far from the Slidre Fjord. Bears and game are said to be in plenty in the neighbourhood; and we are able to say that the trout are excellent. Those caught by Mephistopheles in the river, a short distance before we came to Stee, at our last camp, were delicious. Very shortly after we had left Stee, the melancholy discovery was made, that our donkey’s tether-rope, and neck-strap, had been left behind at the last camp.

General recrimination among our gipsies. Esmeralda had unloosed the Puru Rawnee the first thing in the morning, to give it more liberty, and the rope was left on the ground. Noah thought it was put up. Well, after all, it may be of some use to those who found it. They had no chance of restoring it, and we managed without, during the rest of our travels.

Now we were again in enclosures. The road lay along the left shore, and a short distance along the length of “Slidre Fjord.” It is a long, and considerable extent of water.

Our party had not gone very far, when we passed an excellent house on the right of the road—much better than those generally seen. Soon after, when we had partly passed down the short descent beyond the house, a gentleman came after us. As he came up and addressed us, we at once called a halt.

Two ladies then joined him. The gentleman was a pale, and exceedingly intellectual-looking man. We understood him to say that he had seen some account of us in the Times. Afterwards, we heard him addressed as Doctor.

Directly after, some more ladies came down the hill from the opposite direction, accompanied by one or two young gentlemen. One, a tall, gentlemanly, amiable, young Norwegian, is especially selected to converse with us in English, and act as interpreter.

In very good English he said, “I pray you, sir, speak slowly, and I can understand you.” We did so, and managed exceedingly well.

Our visitors had now increased to quite a large party of ladies and gentlemen, all surrounding our gipsies and donkeys, talking, discussing, asking questions, all in one breath. It was quite a roadside scene, as we almost blocked up the narrow part of the way at the foot of two short ascents. The sun was exceedingly hot, fiery, and bright.

Just at this moment, a lady in a carriole, driven by her skydskarl, came down the rather steep descent towards us. She was of English distinguÉe type of beauty, and did not appear either comfortable, or delighted with her mode of travelling. There was a pallor on her countenance; she seemed nervous and delicate.

Another carriole, coming immediately behind, was driven by a nice, good-humoured, handsome fellow, we judged to be her husband. His wife, who did not speak, had, like many who journey through life, a care-worn impress written on every line of her thoughtful countenance.

They had scarcely gone past, when the English traveller suddenly pulled up, and we had a few minutes’ converse. We thought he seemed, half to envy our independent mode of travelling, for at parting he said, “Just the thing I should like,” and, smiling, wished us a pleasant journey.

After our English travellers had left us, we found our visitors still interested in our gipsies, animals, and baggage. Noah soon unpacked our tin box, and we presented one of our songs to the Doctor, one to the young gentleman who spoke English, and one to a very pleasant, kind, amiable lady of the party.

Whilst Noah was rearranging our baggage, the young gentleman who spoke English said, “Come further, where there is ombre.” Very shortly we came to another exceedingly comfortable, good-sized house, standing in its nice pleasant garden, with an approach from the road. The “Slidre Fjord” was below it, and the situation was delightful. There they pressed us to remain, and take rest; we would find shade and convenience. Finding we could not stay, one of the ladies ordered her servants to bring out bottled Baiersk Öl and glasses, and a large jug of excellent draught beer, which at last we consented to have. We halted ’neath the shade of a tree which overhung the road. Our gipsies were very thirsty; we were obliged to be very firm as to quantity. Our kind friends pressed us much to stay with our tents, but our time was limited.

Then our guitar, and Zachariah’s violin were tuned up: the heat and knocking about had not improved their tone. We sang for our kind entertainers our gipsy song. Afterwards, three of the young ladies (and they were very good-looking), joined by one of the young gentlemen, sang for us. Very nicely they sang; one held a small book of Norwegian songs, to assist the memory. Noah and Zachariah afterwards gave them some music, with their violin and tambourine.

The lady had fruit brought out. In all our wanderings they were amongst those whose acquaintance—alas! too short—will always be remembered with pleasure.

Time passes rapidly. The gipsies’ instruments are put up. The kind Norwegian lady gave Esmeralda a bouquet of flowers from her garden. There was much in this present, which drew us still closer, in our appreciation of her friendly thought. The heroine of our book receives a bouquet of flowers! It is not thrown down at her feet, with the grandiose air of “There, take it!” It is given her by one whose amiable spirit had our sympathy, and for whom we felt at that moment we could have risked much. She had given the bouquet to the heroine of our wanderings—Esmeralda, the true, not the fictitious, heroine of this book!

The young gentleman who spoke English expressed in English terms their good wishes. They were thoroughly good people, with all the refinement, and gentleness of those best feelings, which should predominate in our nature. As we went out of sight, in passing a turn of the road, we saw them in the distance, waving their handkerchiefs in parting adieux.

It was now midday; the sun was intensely hot. Our animals, who could stand almost anything, seemed oppressed with the heat. We had, we believe, just left “Lomen.” There were enclosures on both sides the road; no convenient place to give us shade and rest. We must push on. Each day, as we wandered on, we never knew where we should dine or sleep.

The district we now passed through was well cultivated. Many gaards on each side the road. The peasants were busy with their harvest. Even their anxiety to make provision for the winter of life did not prevent them from running, at times, with excited and unwonted energy, to the road fences to see us go by.

At one place, we observed a tall peasant running down a steep declivity; in his hurry he had left one of his shoes behind, one on and the other off. “Here comes neck or nothing,” said Esmeralda, as he nearly took a header down a steep rock.

Still we had to keep on. Small patches of hops, we noticed at some of the gaards, perhaps a few perches; never, we remember, more than a rood. Yet they seemed to grow luxuriantly. Trailing in their rich foliage, and blossoms, they are always an interesting feature in any scene. Now and then, we noticed hemp. There was a well-to-do appearance in this district.

We had gone some distance in the heat of the sun, travel-worn, and dusty; at last we descended a steep declivity, and on our left we perceived a rough piece of open ground, covered with scattered trees and bushes, sloping to a dingle. A cool, clear stream, rippled near an old mill, and crossed the road. The road descended, and again as rapidly ascended. All was secluded.