Feats on the Fiord Part 12

to raise the country. The pirates having once entered the upper reach of the fiord, might thus be prevented from ever going back again, and from annoying any more the neighbourhood which they had so long infested.

[5] When it is desired to send a summons or other message over a district in Norway where the dwellings are scattered, the budstick is sent round by running messengers. It is a stick made hollow, to hold the magistrate's order, and a screw at one end to secure the paper in its place. Each messenger runs a certain distance, and then delivers it to another, who must carry it forward. If any one is absent, the budstick must be laid upon the "housefather's great chair, by the fireside;" and if the house is locked, it must be fastened outside the door, so as to be seen as soon as the host returns. Upon great occasions, it was formerly found that a whole region could be raised in a very short time. The method is still in use for appointments on public business.

Erlingsen promised to be wary on his return homewards, so as not to fall in with the two whom Rolf had put to flight. He said, however, that if by chance he should cross their path, he did not doubt he could also make them run, by acting the ghost or demon, though he had not had Rolf's advantage of disappearing in the fiord before their eyes. They were already terrified enough to fly from anything that called itself a ghost.

The three then went on their several ways--Oddo speeding over the ridges like a sprite on a night errand, and Rolf striding up the gra.s.sy slopes like (what he was) a lover anxious to be beside his betrothed after a perilous absence.

This was the day when the first cheese of the season was found to be perfect and complete. Frolich, Stiorna, and Erica examined it carefully, and p.r.o.nounced it a well-pressed, excellent Gammel cheese, such as they should not be ashamed to set before the bishop, and therefore one which ought to satisfy the demon. It now only remained to carry it to its destination--to the ridge where the first cheese of the season was always laid for the demon, and where, it appeared, he regularly came for his offering, as no vestige of the gift was ever to be found the next morning--only the round place in the gra.s.s where it had lain, and the marks of some feet which had trodden the herbage.

"Help me up with it upon my head, Stiorna," said Erica.

"I know why you will not let me carry the cheese," said Frolich, smiling. "You are thinking of Oddo with the cake and ale. n.o.body but you must deposit offerings henceforward. You are afraid I should eat up that cheese, almost as heavy as myself. You think there would not be a paring left for the demon by the time I got to the ridge."

"Not so," replied Erica. "I think that he to whom this cheese is destined had rather be served by one who does not laugh at him. And it is a safer plan for you, Frolich."

And off went Erica with her cheese.

The ridge on which she laid it would have tempted her at any other time to sit down. It was green and soft with mosses, and offered as comfortable a couch to one tired with the labours of the day as any to be found at the farm. But to-night it was to be haunted; so Erica merely stayed to do her duty. She selected the softest tuft of moss on which to lay the cheese, put her offering reverently down, and then diligently gathered the brightest blossoms from the herbage around, and strewed them over the cheese. She then walked rapidly homewards, without once looking behind her. If she had had the curiosity and courage to watch for a little while, she would have seen her offering carried off by an odd little figure, with nothing very terrible in its appearance--namely, a woman about four feet high, with a flat face, and eyes wide apart, wearing a reindeer garment like a waggoner's frock, a red comforter about her neck, a red cloth cap on her head, a blue worsted sash, and leather boots up to the knee--in short, such a Lapland girl as Erica would have given a rye-cake to as charity, but would not have thought of asking to sit down even in her master's kitchen; for the Norwegian servants are very high and saucy towards the Laps who wander to their doors. It is not surprising that the Lapps, who pitch their tents on the mountain, should like having a fine Gammel cheese for the trouble of picking it up; and the company whose tents Erica had pa.s.sed on her way up to the seater, kept a good look-out upon all the dairy people round, and carried off every cheese meant for the demon. While Erica was gathering and strewing the blossoms, this girl was hidden near; and trusting to Erica's not looking behind her, the rogue swept off the blossoms, and threw them at her before she had gone ten yards, trundled the cheese down the other side of the ridge, made a circuit, and was at the tents with her prize before supper-time. What would Erica have thought if she had beheld this fruit of so many milkings and skimmings, so much boiling and pressing, devoured by greedy Lapps in their dirty tent?

On her way homewards Erica remembered that this was Midsummer Eve--a season when her mother was in her thoughts more than at any other time; for Midsummer Eve is sacred in Norway to the wood-demon, whose victim she believed her mother to have been. Every woodman sticks his axe into a tree that night, that the demon may, if he pleases, begin the work of the year by felling trees or making a f.a.ggot. Erica hastened to the seater, to discover whether Erlingsen had left his axe behind, and whether Jan had one with him.

Jan had an axe, and remembering his duty, though tired and sleepy, was just going to the nearest pine-grove with it when Erica reached home.

She seized Erlingsen's axe and went also, and stuck it in a tree, just within the verge of the grove, which was in that part a thicket, from the growth of underwood. This thicket was so near the back of the dairy that the two were home in five minutes. Yet they found Frolich almost as impatient as if they had been gone an hour. She asked whether their heathen worship was done at last, so that all might go to bed; or whether they were to be kept awake till midnight by more mummery?

Erica replied by showing that Jan was already gone to his loft over the shed, and begging leave to comb and curl Frolich's hair, and see her to rest at once. Stiorna was asleep; and Erica herself meant to watch the cattle this night. They lay crouched in the gra.s.s, all near each other, and within view, in the mild slanting sunshine; and here she intended to sit, on the bench outside the home-shed, and keep her eye on them till morning.

"You are thinking of the Bishop of Tronyem's cattle," said Frolich.

"I am, dear. This is Midsummer Eve, you know, when, as we think, all the spirits love to be abroad."

"You will die before your time, Erica," said the weary girl. "These spirits give you no rest of body or mind. What a day's work we have done! And now you are going to watch till twelve, one, two o'clock! I could not keep awake," she said, yawning, "if there was one demon at the head of the bed, and another at the foot, and the underground people running like mice all over the floor."

"Then go and sleep, dear. I will fetch your comb, if you will just keep an eye on the cattle for the moment I am gone."

As Erica combed Frolich's long fair hair, and admired its shine in the sunlight, and twisted it up behind, and curled it on each side, the weary girl leaned her head against her, and dropped asleep. When all was done, she just opened her eyes to find her way to bed, and say--

"You may as well go to bed comfortably; for you will certainly drop asleep here, if you don't there."

"Not with my pretty Spiel in sight. I would not lose my white heifer for seven nights' sleep. You will thank me when you find your cow, and all the rest, safe in the morning. Good-night, dear."

And Erica closed the door after her young mistress, and sat down on the bench outside, with her face towards the sun, her lure by her side, and her knitting in her hands. She was glad that the herd lay so that by keeping her eye on them she could watch that wonder of Midsummer night within the Arctic Circle, the dipping of the sun below the horizon, to appear again immediately. She had never been far enough to the north to see the sun complete its circle without disappearing at all; but she did not wish it. She thought the softening of the light which she was about to witness, and the speedy renewing of day, more wonderful and beautiful.

She sat, soothed by her employment and by the tranquillity of the scene, and free from fear. She had done her duty by the spirits of the mountain and the wood; and in case of the appearance of any object that she did not like, she could slip into the house in an instant. Her thoughts were therefore wholly Rolf's. She could endure now to contemplate a long life spent in doing honour to his memory by the industrious discharge of duty. She would watch over Peder, and receive his last breath--an office which should have been Rolf's. She would see another houseman arrive, and take possession of that house, and become betrothed, and marry; and no one, not even her watchful mistress should see a trace of repining in her countenance, or hear a tone of bitterness from her lips. However weary her heart might be, she would dance at every wedding--of fellow-servant or of young mistress. She would cloud n.o.body's happiness, but would do all she could to make Rolf's memory pleasant to those who had known him, and wished him well.

Her eyes rested on the lovely scene before her. From the elevation at which she was, it appeared as if the ocean swelled up into the very sky, so high was the horizon line; and between lay a vast region of rock and river, hill and dale, forest, fiord, and town, part in golden sunlight, part in deep shadow, but all, though bright as the skies could make it, silent as became the hour. As Erica found that she could glance at the sun itself without losing sight of the cattle, which still lay within her indirect vision, she carefully watched the descent of the orb, anxious to observe precisely when it should disappear, and how soon its golden spark would kindle up again from the waves. When its lower rim was just touching the waters, its circle seemed to be of an enormous size, and its whole ma.s.s to be flaming.

Its appearance was very unlike that of the comparatively small, compact, brilliant luminary which rides the sky at noon. Erica was just thinking so, when a rustle in the thicket, within the pine grove, made her involuntarily turn her head in that direction. Instantly remembering that it was a common device of the underground people for one of them to make the watcher look away, in order that others might drive off the cattle, she resumed her duty, and gazed steadfastly at the herd. They were safe--neither reduced to the size of mice, nor wandering off, though she had let her eye glance away from them.

The sky, however, did not look itself. There were two suns in it. Now Erica really did quite forget the herd for some time, even her dear white heifer--while she stared bewildered at the spectacle before her eyes. There was one sun, the sun she had always known--half sunk in the sea, while above it hung another, round and complete, somewhat less bright perhaps, but as distinct and plain before her eyes as any object in heaven or earth had ever been. Her work dropped from her hands, as she covered her eyes for a moment. She started to her feet, and then looked again. It was still there, though the lower sun was almost gone. As she stood gazing, she once more heard the rustle in the wood.

Though it crossed her mind that the wood-demon was doubtless there making choice of his axe and his tree, she could not move, and had not even a wish to take refuge in the house, so wonderful was his spectacle--the clearest instance of enchantment she had ever seen. Was it meant for good--a token that the coming year was to be a doubly bright one? If not, how was she to understand it?

"Erica!" cried a voice at this moment from the wood--a voice which thrilled her whole frame. "My Erica!"

She not only looked towards the wood now, but sprang forwards; but her eyes were so dazzled by having gazed at the sun that she could see nothing. Then she remembered how many forms the cunning demon could a.s.sume, and she turned back thinking how cruel it was to delude her with her lover's voice, when instead of his form she should doubtless see some horrid monster. She turned in haste, and laid her hand on the latch of the door, glancing once more at the horizon.

There was now no sun at all. The burnish was gone from every point of the landscape, and a mild twilight reigned.

One good omen had vanished; but there was still enchantment around, for again she heard the thrilling "Erica!"

There was no huge beast glaring through the pine stems, and trampling down the thicket; but instead, there was the figure of a man advancing from the shadow into the pasture. "Why do you take that form?" said the trembling girl, sinking down on the bench. "I had rather have seen you as a bear. Did you not find the axe? I laid it for you.

Pray--pray, come no nearer."

"I must, my love, to show you that it is your own Rolf. Erica, do not let your superst.i.tion come for ever between us."

She held out her arms--she could not rise, though she strove to do so.

Rolf sat beside her--she felt his kisses on her forehead--she felt his heart beat--she felt that not even a spirit could a.s.sume the very tones of that voice.

"Do forgive me," she murmured; "but it is Mid-summer Eve, and I felt so sure----"

"As sure of my being the demon as I am sure there is no cruel spirit here, though it is Midsummer Eve. Look, love! see how the day smiles upon us!"

And he pointed to where a golden star seemed to kindle on the edge of the sea. It was the sun again, rising after its few minutes of absence.

"I saw two just now," cried Erica--"two suns. Where are we, really?

And how is all this? And where do you come from?"

And she gazed, still wistfully, doubtfully, in her lover's face.

"I will show you," said he, smiling. And while he still held her with one arm, lest in some sudden fancy she should fly him as a ghost, he used the other hand to empty his pockets of the beautiful sh.e.l.ls he had brought, tossing them into her lap.

"Did you ever see such, Erica? I have been where they lie in heaps.

Did you ever see such beauties?"

"I never did, Rolf; you have been at the bottom of the sea."

And once more she shrank from what she took for the grasp of a drowned man.

"Not to the bottom, love," replied he, still clasping her hand. "Our fiord is deep, perhaps as deep as they say. I dived as deep as a man may to come up with the breath in his body, but I could never find the bottom. Did I not tell you that I should go down as far as Vogel island, and that I should there be safe?"

"Yes! You did--you did!"

"Well! I went to Vogel island, and here I am safe!"

"It is you! We are together again!" she exclaimed, now in full belief.

"Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!" And she wept upon his shoulder.