Three in Norway Part 13

MENU.--August 23.

_Poisson._ Truite a la Fried in b.u.t.ter.

_Entrees._ Kari of Reindeer Tongue.

_Rots._ The Boss Pie.

_Gibier._ Ryper a la Spitchc.o.c.k.

_Entremets._ Jam. Wimberry tart. Marmalade.

_Potage._ Could not eat any.

Then came Esau's romance.

'We walked up the Memurua to the great glacier, and then skirted its south side. We found many fresh tracks, and about two o'clock, when we were seven miles from home, ola spied three deer chewing stones about three quarters of a mile away. The wind was just in the right direction to allow us to approach them, and they were in capital ground for stalking, full of little hollows and slopes. But there was a serious drawback: on one side was a lake, on the other an impa.s.sable precipice; and before we could get into a place out of their sight we should be obliged to cross a narrow strip of ground in full view of them, though perhaps half a mile from them. We sat down and had our lunch, and waited an hour watching for them to lie down, and at last they did so; then we determined to risk the pa.s.sage of the dangerous strip, and by crawling like serpents and aided by luck got across without the deer seeing us.

Then we had to creep along the side of a scandalous precipice for the next half-mile, in no danger of being seen, but with our hearts constantly in our mouths as, despite our care, some stone was dislodged and went clattering down the rocks, sounding to my strained ears as if it must disturb every living thing within a mile. Very slow and difficult was our progress, occasionally dangerous, but at last we arrived at a spot 200 yards from the deer, which were still lying down, and p.r.o.nounced by ola to be a buck and two does.

'This was a very awkward place to shoot from, and I thought I could see my way to a better one much nearer, so tried it and found it was just possible, and after about a quarter of an hour's worming, I arrived at a place only 100 yards from them. From this I could see both the does well, but only the head of the buck, and so had to lie there an hour waiting for him to get up. Both the does did so twice, offering beautiful shots, but he would not move, and they lay down again. I dare not whistle to make him jump up, for fear the does might possibly be in the way at the moment. So there I lay, miserably uncomfortable, with cramp in every muscle; and at last I tried to crawl to another stone about five yards away, from which I thought I could see to shoot at the buck. When I got to it and peered cautiously over, I was horrified to see the deer some distance away, and running as hard as they could towards a small glacier which was close to them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Esau stalking near Hinaakjaernhullet]

'Of course I instantly lost my head, and jumping up fired at the buck without much aim, and missed him. Then I recovered my senses and made a careful shot at the last doe, knocking her over like a rabbit. The other two were just then out of sight in a hollow, but they appeared directly going up the hill on the snow at a great speed; and getting a broadside shot at the buck I broke his shoulder; after this he went slowly, but still kept on up the hill, and when he was about three hundred yards away I fired two more shots, one of which hit him in the ribs, and the other cut one of his horns off. Then he gave up trying to mount the hill, and turned down towards the lake out of my sight. I ran as hard as I could across the shoulder of the glacier, and saw him standing down below me among the rocks close to the water, and sitting down I fired another shot which killed him.

'This is not a creditable performance in the shooting line; but my solid bullets have a good deal to do with the matter: either of the first two shots would have stopped him at once if fired from an express with hollow-pointed bullets.

'The doe is a barren one with a beautiful skin, and very fat, and the buck is the best we have killed at present this year, a four-year-old, what ola calls a "litt stor bock" (little big buck), which I suppose is the next best thing to the mythical "meget stor bock," whose footprints we are always seeing, but who carefully absenteth himself whensoever the jovial hunter goeth forth to pursue him.

'We saw a great deal of fresh spoor to-day, so that we may hope the deer are beginning to come to our part of the country: perhaps the poor things have been very much bullied in other places. Anyhow, they won't find any better country in Norway than where we went to-day; and the scenery there is glorious.'

Esau was so tired that he fell asleep once in the midst of his exciting narrative, and as dinner was very late we all turned in almost as soon as it was finished.

CHAPTER XXIII.

A PICNIC.

_August 24._--There is a brood of ryper on the brow of the mountain above our camp, which we always put up when we walk over Glopit armed with rods, but never when we take a gun. There were originally eight of them, but one has succ.u.mbed to a merlin which hunts up there; and they are remarkably tame, so that when we put them up we throw stones at them, and fully expect to kill them by that means, but somehow they have escaped with their lives until now. This conduct has become unbearable, and we have sworn 'this day that brood shall die;' so the first thing after breakfast Esau and the Skipper toiled up the mountain with pockets full of cartridges and guns ready for the slaughter of the innocents.

It takes just three quarters of an hour to get to the top; and after reaching it we tramped over some millions of acres in search of that brood, and of course it never obtruded itself on the scene. Finally the Skipper went home in disgust, remarking that 'he wished every ryper in Norway was at the bottom of Gjendin;' while Esau said 'he would stay up there a month or two and find those birds if they were anywhere on our sheet of the Ordnance map.'

The Skipper had hardly walked 200 yards towards camp before he trod on the old c.o.c.k, who got up observing kek! kek! kekkekkek_kek_, kurrack: kur_rack_; kurrack, krackrackackckkkkk! in an extremely indignant tone of voice, and the rest of the family immediately followed him, astonishing the Skipper so much that he missed the lot; and though we marked them down quite near we could not persuade any of them to risk their lives in flight again.

The language used on this occasion scorched the herbage off so large a patch of ground, that John down below thought that Glopit had suddenly commenced a volcanic eruption.

There are two kinds of birds known as ryper in Norway--the fjeld or skarv ryper, which is, we think, identical with our ptarmigan; and the dal or skog ryper, which we believe to be the same bird as the willow grouse of North America. The former of these is not numerous anywhere, but a few are always seen by the reindeer hunter up on the highest parts of the mountains, among the snow and rocks. They do not attempt much concealment, but their grey bodies and white wings are so exactly the colour of their habitation that it is very difficult to see them, as they sit perfectly still on the stones. If you do happen to catch sight of one, in all probability after looking at him for a little you will suddenly be aware that there is a small family of others all about him, and will wonder how they escaped your notice at first. They are not very useful for sporting purposes, as they are never found in great numbers, are too tame to give any trouble, and not particularly good to eat. The skog ryper is the bird which takes the place of the British grouse for the sportsman in Norway: he lives at a lower alt.i.tude than the skarv ryper, among the willows, wimberries, and stunted birches. In plumage he is not unlike our grouse, but not quite so red in shade, and with a white wing. During the summer he feeds on wimberry leaves, heather, and occasional bits of willow, and he is then almost if not quite equal to a grouse in flavour, but in winter, when there is nothing but willow to be had, the flesh becomes bitter and not nice to eat: the poor birds are then snared in great numbers, and may be seen hanging in English shops as 'ptarmigan,' which with their then white plumage they much resemble.

After a good breeding season these skog ryper are very numerous in any favourable place in Norway, but they are so much inclined to lie close, that without dogs it is impossible to do much with them. Gjendin is too steep and desolate for them, but between the east end of the lake and Sjodals Vand there is some first-rate country, and also a little at the west end.

After lunch we all manned Esau's canoe, which is the largest, because he is the smallest man; and set off down the lake to Leirungso, the place where the professor's hut is built at the edge of the waterfall which runs out of a small lake there (not the real Leirung's Vand, which is further to the east).

The Skipper had noticed a remarkably fine bed of molte baer there, which we expected to be just about ripe now, and so we had determined to picnic (!) there, forsooth, as if our life were not one perpetual and perennial picnic.

Leirungso is nearly four miles from our camp, and the professor's hut is an extremely comfortable and convenient little dwelling, in a most charming situation. Only one thing has been wanting, reindeer: he never found any, and left his hut a fortnight ago for a place further north, where we afterwards heard he had good sport.

After landing, the Skipper and Esau climbed up the valley to the little lake in search of something to shoot, while John remained to bathe and fish at the fall. There were lots of duck on the little lake, and in the rushy swamp at its upper end, and the Skipper put up a large brood of ryper, which we marked into a very small patch of willow scrub surrounded by bare ground. We walked through and through that patch, and threw so many stones into it that we fancy we must have killed and buried most of them, for we only persuaded four of them to fly again, three of which we secured. Our shooting was soon over, and then we gathered a lot of molte baer, and returned to John, who was getting dinner ready; and after a regal repast of kidneys, reindeer pie, and molte, paddled home by moonlight, arriving soon after nine.

We beguiled the journey home by songs and accompaniments by the following celebrated artists: Messrs. John, Skipper, and Esau. Among other songs was an original composition by John--air, 'Bonnie Dundee'--

ODE TO THE LAST POT OF MARMALADE.

To the fishers of Gjendin the bold Skipper spoke: 'There is one two-pound pot that as yet is unbroke;[1]

So rouse ye, my gallants, and after our tea Let us "go for" our Keiller's[2] own Bonnie Dundee.'

(_Chorus._) Come! up with the Smor![3] Come! out with the Brod,[4]

We'll have one more Spise[5] that's fit for a G.o.d; Come, whip off the paper and let it gae free, And we'll wade into Keiller's own Bonnie Dundee.

You may talk of your molte[6] with sugar and milk, Your blueberry pasties, and jam of that ilk; They are all very well in the wilds, don't you see?

But they can't hold a candle to Bonnie Dundee.

_Chorus as before._

Oh! the pies they were good, and the oven baked true, With its door of green sod, and its sinuous flue.

Oh! the curry was toothsome as curry can be, But where is the equal of Bonnie Dundee?

_Chorus again, gentlemen._

There are ryper on Glopit[7] as fleet as the wind, And the Stor[8] Bock roams on the Skagastolstind; There are trout, teal, and woodc.o.c.k, a sight for to see, But what meal can be perfect without our Dundee?

_Chorus, if you please._

Pandecages[9] are tasty, and omelettes are good; Our eggs, though antique, not unsuited for food; You can always be sure of at least one in three, But blue mould cannot ruin our Bonnie Dundee.

_Chorus, only more so._

Take[10] my soup, though 'tis luscious, my ol,[11] though 'tis rare, My whisky, though scanty, beyond all compare; Take my baccy, take all that is dearest to me, But leave me one spoonful of Bonnie Dundee.

_Chorus ad lib._

Esau supplied an encore verse:--

It has made our lot brighter, and helped us to bear Our troubles, the rain, mist, and cold northern air; And the Gjende fly,[12] green fly,[13] bug,[14] skeeter,[15] and flea, We should ne'er have done Deeing them but for Dundee.

_Chorus (of big, big D's)._