Elsket | Page 5

many gables and peaks,
ending in the curious dragon-pennants, which I recognized as one of
the old Norsk wooden churches of a past age.
When, however, an hour later, we had got down to the table-land, I
found myself suddenly in front of a long, quaint, double log cottage, set
between two immense bowlders, and roofed with layers of birch bark,
covered with turf, which was blue with wild pansies. It was as if it were
built under a bed of heart's-ease. It was very old, and had evidently
been a house of some pretension, for there was much curious carving
about the doors, and indeed about the whole front, the dragon's head
being distinctly visible in the design. There were several lesser houses
which looked as if they had once been dwellings, but they seemed now
to be only stables. As we approached the principal door it was opened,

and there stepped forth one of the most striking figures I ever saw--a
young woman, rather tall, and as straight as an arrow. My friend's
words involuntarily recurred to me, "A daughter of the Vikings," and
then, somehow, I too had the feeling he had expressed, "Poor thing!"
Her figure was one of the richest and most perfect I ever beheld. Her
face was singularly beautiful; but it was less her beauty than her
nobility of look and mien combined with a certain sadness which
impressed me. The features were clear and strong and perfectly carved.
There was a firm mouth, a good jaw, strong chin, a broad brow, and
deep blue eyes which looked straight at you. Her expression was so soft
and tender as to have something pathetic in it. Her hair was flaxen, and
as fine as satin, and was brushed perfectly smooth and coiled on the
back of her shapely head, which was placed admirably on her shoulders.
She was dressed in the coarse, black-blue stuff of the country, and a
kerchief, also dark blue, was knotted under her chin, and fell back
behind her head, forming a dark background for her silken hair.
Seeing us she stood perfectly still until we drew near, when she made a
quaint, low courtesy and advanced to meet her father with a look of
eager expectancy in her large eyes.
"Elsket," he said, with a tenderness which conveyed the full meaning of
the sweet pet term, "darling."
There was something about these people, peasants though they were,
which gave me a strange feeling of respect for them.
"This is Doctor John's friend," said the old man, quietly.
She looked at her father in a puzzled way for a moment, as if she had
not heard him, but as he repeated his introduction a light came into her
eyes, and coming up to me she held out her hand, saying, "Welcome."
Then turning to her father--"Have you a letter for me, father?" she
asked.
"No, Elsket," he said, gently; "but I will go again next month."

A cloud settled on her face and increased its sadness, and she turned
her head away. After a moment she went into the house and I saw that
she was weeping. A look of deep dejection came over the old man's
face also.

II.
I found that my friend, "Doctor John," strange to relate of a fisherman,
had not exaggerated the merits of the fishing. How they got there, two
thousand feet above the lower valley, I don't know; but trout fairly
swarmed in the little streams, which boiled among the rocks, and they
were as greedy as if they had never seen a fly in their lives. I shortly
became contemptuous toward anything under three pounds, and
addressed myself to the task of defending my flies against the smaller
ones, and keeping them only for the big fellows, which ran over three
pounds--the patriarchs of the streams. With these I had capital sport, for
they knew every angle and hole, they sought every coign of vantage,
and the rocks were so thick and so sharp that from the time one of these
veterans took the fly, it was an equal contest which of us should come
off victorious. I was often forced to rush splashing and floundering
through the water to my waist to keep my line from being sawed, and
as the water was not an hour from the green glaciers above, it was not
always entirely pleasant.
I soon made firm friends with my hosts, and varied the monotony of
catching three-pounders by helping them get in their hay for the winter.
Elsket, poor thing, was, notwithstanding her apparently splendid
physique, so delicate that she could no longer stand the fatigue of
manual labor, any extra exertion being liable to bring on a recurrence of
the heart-failure, from which she had suffered.