Norway, 2nd July, 1868.
Happening to be in Norway just now, and believing that young people feel an interest in the land of the old sea-kings, I send you a short account of my experiences. Up to this date I verily believe that there is nothing in the wide world comparable to this island coast of Norway. At this moment we are steaming through a region which the fairies might rejoice to inhabit. Indeed, the fact that there are no fairies here goes far to prove that there are none anywhere. What a thought! No fairies? Why all the romance of childhood would be swept away at one fell blow if I were to admit the idea that there are no fairies. Perish the matter-of-fact thought! Let me rather conclude, that, for some weighty, though unknown, reason, the fairies have resolved to leave this island world uninhabited.
Fortune favours me. I have just come on deck, after a two days’ voyage across the German Ocean, to find myself in the midst of innumerable islands, a dead calm—so dead that it seems impossible that it should ever come alive again—and scenery so wild, so gorgeous, that one ceases to wonder where the Vikings of old got their fire, their romance, their enterprise, and their indomitable pluck. It is warm, too, and brilliantly sunny.
On gazing at these tall grey rocks, with the bright green patches here and there, and an occasional red-tiled hut, one almost expects to see a fleet of daring rovers dash out of a sequestered1 bay, with their long yellow hair, and big blue eyes, and broad shoulders—not to mention broad-swords and ring-mail and battle-axes. But one does not always see what one expects. The days of the sea-kings are gone by; and at this moment, rowing out of one of these same sequestered bays, comes the boat of a custom-house officer. Yes, there is no doubt whatever about it. There he comes, a plain-looking unromantic man in a foraging-cap, with a blue surtout and brass2 buttons, about as like to a sea-king as a man-of-war is to a muffin.
Of course, the scenery is indescribable—no scenery is describable. In order that my reader may judge of the truth of this statement, I append the following description.
There are islands round us of every shape and size—all of them more or less barren, the greater part of their surfaces being exposed grey rock. Here and there may be seen, as I have already hinted, small patches of bright green, and, sparsely3 scattered4 everywhere, are little red-roofed wooden cottages—poor enough things the most of them; others, gaudy-looking affairs with gable-ends, white faces, and windows bordered with green. All of these are, while I write, reflected in the water as in a mirror, for there is not a breath of wind. Over the islands on my left are seen more islands extending out to sea. On the right tower up the blue hills of the interior of old Norway, and, although the weather is excessively hot, many of these are covered with snow. Everything is light, and transparent5, and thin, and blue, and glassy, and fairy-like, and magically beautiful, and altogether delightful6! There: have you made much of all that, good reader? If you have, be thankful, for, as I set out by saying, description of scenery, (at least to any good purpose), is impossible. The description of a man, however, is quite another thing. Here is our pilot. He is a rugged7 man, with fair hair, and a yellow face, and a clay-coloured chin, and a red nose. He is small in stature8, and thin, insignificant9 in appearance, deeply miserable10 in aspect. His garments are black glazed11 oiled-cloth from head to foot, and immensely too large for him, especially the waistcoat, which is double-breasted, and seems to feel that his trousers are not a sufficient covering for such a pair of brittle12 looking legs, for it extends at least half way down to his knees. The flap of his sou’-wester, also, comes half way down his back. He is a wonderful object to look upon; yet he has the audacity13, (so it seems to me), to take us in charge, and our captain has the foolhardiness to allow him.
If one goes out of the beaten track of “routes” in Norway, one is apt to get into difficulties of a minor14 kind. I happen to be travelling just now with a party of four friends, of whom three are ladies, the fourth a jolly young fellow fresh from college. A few days ago we had a few unusual experiences—even for Norway. On leaving Bergen we had made up our minds, as the steamer did not sail to within about sixty miles of our destination, to get ourselves and our luggage put down at a small hamlet at the mouth of the Nord-fjord, and there engage two large boats to transport us the remaining sixty miles up the fjord.
The ladies of our party valorously resolved to sit up all night to see the magnificent island scenery through which we were passing under the influence of the charming and subdued15 daylight of midnight—for there is no night here just now.
As for myself, being an old traveller, I have become aware that sleep is essential to a comfortable and useful existence. I therefore bade my friends good-night, took a farewell look at the bright sky, and the islands, and the sleeping sea, and went below to bed.
Next day we spent steaming along the island coast.
At one o’clock on the following morning we reached Molde?en, where the steamer landed us on a rock on which were a few acres of grass and half a dozen wooden houses. We had a good deal of luggage with us, also some casks, cases, and barrels of provisions, and a piano-forte, as our place of sojourn16 is somewhat out of the way and far removed from civilised markets. A few poverty-stricken natives stood on the rude stone pier17 as we landed, and slowly assisted us to unload. At the time I conceived that the idiotical expression of their countenances19 was the result of being roused at untimely hours; but our subsequent experience led me to change my mind in regard to this.
In half an hour the steamer puffed21 away into the mysterious depths of one of the dark-blue fjords, and we were left on a desolate22 island, like Robinson Crusoe, with our worldly goods around us. Most of the natives we found so stupid that they could not understand our excellent Norse. One fellow, in particular, might as well have been a piece of mahogany as a man. He stood looking at me with stolid23 imbecility while I was talking to him, and made no reply when I had done. In fact the motion of his eyes, as he looked at me, alone betrayed the fact that he was flesh and blood.
We soon found that two boats were not to be had; that almost all the men of the place were away deep-sea fishing, and would not be back for many hours, and that when they did come back they would be so tired as to require at least half a day’s rest ere they could undertake so long a journey with us. However, they sent a man off in a boat to search for as many boatmen as could be found. He was away an hour. During this period the few inhabitants who had turned out to see the steamer, disappeared, and we were left alone on the beach. There was no inn here; no one cared for us; every place seemed dirty with the exception of one house, which had a very lonely and deserted24 aspect, so we did not venture to disturb it.
In the course of time the messenger returned. No men were to be found except three. This was not a sufficient crew for even one large boat—we required two.
A feeling that we were homeless wanderers came over us now, and each, seating himself or herself on a box or a portmanteau, began to meditate25. Seeing this, the three men coolly lay down to rest in the bow of their boat, and, drawing a sail over them, were quickly sound asleep.
The act suggested the idea that we could not do better, so we placed two portmanteaus end to end, and thus made a couch about six feet long. A box, somewhat higher, placed at one end, served for a pillow, and on this one of the ladies lay down, flat on her back of course, that being the only possible position under the circumstances. A shawl was thrown over her, and she went to sleep like an effigy26 on a tombstone.
Another of the ladies tried a similar couch; but as boxes of equal height could not be found, her position was not enviable. The third lady preferred an uneasy posture27 among the ribs28 and cordage of the boat, and I lay down on the paving-stones of the quay29, having found from experience that, in the matter of beds, flatness is the most indispensable of qualities, while hardness is not so awful as one might suppose. Where my comrade the collegian went to I know not.
Presently one of the ladies got up and said that this would never do; that the next day was Sunday, and that we were in duty bound to do our best to reach the end of our journey on Saturday night. Thus admonished30, my comrade and I started up and resolved to become “men,” that is, to act as boatmen. No sooner said than done. We roused the three sleepers31, embarked32 the most important half of our luggage; left the other half in charge of the native with the idiotic18 countenance20, with directions to take care of it and have it forwarded as soon as possible, and, at a little after two in the morning, pulled vigorously away from the inhospitable shores of Molde?en.
We started on our sixty-miles’ journey hopefully, and went on our way for an hour or so with spirit. But when two hours had elapsed, my companion and I began to feel the effects of rowing with unaccustomed muscles rather severely35, and gazed with envy at the three ladies who lay coiled up in an indescribable heap of shawls and crinolines in the stern of the boat, sound asleep. They needed sleep, poor things, not having rested for two days and two nights.
But my poor friend was more to be pitied than they. Having scorned to follow my example and take rest when he could get the chance, he now found himself unexpectedly called on to do the work of a man when he could not keep his eyes open. When our third hour began, I saw that he was fast asleep at the oar—lifting it indeed and dipping it in proper time, but without pulling the weight of an ounce upon it. I therefore took it from him, and told him to take half an hour’s nap, when I would wake him up, and expect him to take the oars36 and give me a rest.
On being relieved he dropped his head on a sugar-cask, and was sound asleep in two minutes!
I now felt drearily37 dismal38. I began to realise the fact that we had actually pledged ourselves to work without intermission for the next eighteen or twenty hours, of which two only had run, and I felt sensations akin39 to what must have been those of the galley-slaves of old. In the midst of many deep thoughts and cogitations, during that silent morning hour, when all were asleep around me save the three mechanical-looking boatmen, and when the only sounds that met my ears were the dip of the oars and the deep breathing, (to give it no other name), of the slumberers—in the midst of many deep thoughts, I say, I came to the conclusion that in my present circumstances the worst thing I could do was to think! I remembered the fable40 of the pendulum41 that became so horrified42 at the thought of the number of ticks it had to perform in a lengthened43 period of time, that it stopped in despair; and I determined44 to “shut down” my intellect.
Soon after, my shoulders began to ache, and in process of time I felt a sensation about the small of my back that induced the alarming belief that the spinal45 marrow46 was boiling. Presently my wrists became cramped47, and I felt a strong inclination48 to pitch the oars overboard, lie down in the bottom of the boat, and howl! But feeling that this would be unmanly, I restrained myself. Just then my companion in sorrow began to snore, so I awoke him, and—giving him the oars—went to sleep.
From this period everything in the history of that remarkable49 day became unconnected, hazy50, and confusing. I became to some extent mechanical in my thoughts and actions. I rowed and rested, and rowed again; I ate and sang, and even laughed. My comrade did the same, like a true Briton, for he was game to the backbone51. But the one great, grand, never-changing idea in the day was—pull—pull—pull!
We had hoped during the course of that day to procure52 assistance, but we were unsuccessful. We passed a number of fishermen’s huts, but none of the men would consent to embark33 with us. At last, late that night, we reached a small farm about two-thirds of the way up the fjord, where we succeeded in procuring53 another large boat with a crew of five men. Here, also, we obtained a cup of coffee; and while we were awaiting the arrival of the boat I lay down on the pier and had a short nap.
None but those who have toiled54 for it can fully34 appreciate the blessing55 of repose56. It was a clear, calm night when we resumed our boat journey. The soft daylight threw a species of magical effect over the great mountains and the glassy fjord, as we rowed away with steady and vigorous strokes, and I lay down in the bow of the boat to sleep. The end of the mast squeezed my shoulder; the edge of a cask of beef well-nigh stove in my ribs; the corner of a box bored a hole in the nape of my neck—yet I went off like one of the famed seven sleepers, and my friend, although stretched out beside me in similarly unpropitious circumstances, began to snore in less than five minutes after he laid down.
The last sounds I heard before falling into a state of oblivion were the voices of our fair companions joining in that most beautiful of our sacred melodies, the “Evening Hymn,” ere they lay down to rest in the stern of the boat. Next morning at nine we arrived at the top of the fjord, and at the end, for a time at least, of our journeying.
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1
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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2
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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3
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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4
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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5
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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6
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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7
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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8
stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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9
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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10
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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11
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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12
brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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13
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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14
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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15
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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16
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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17
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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18
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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19
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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20
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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21
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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22
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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23
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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24
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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25
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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26
effigy
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| n.肖像 | |
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27
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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28
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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29
quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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30
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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31
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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32
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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34
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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35
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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36
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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37
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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38
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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39
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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40
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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41
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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42
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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43
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
spinal
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| adj.针的，尖刺的，尖刺状突起的；adj.脊骨的，脊髓的 | |
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46
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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47
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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48
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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49
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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50
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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51
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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52
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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53
procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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54
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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55
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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56
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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