Ticket No. 9672 | Page 4

after my arrival, as I trust you will.
"A hundred fond kisses, my darling Hulda. Kiss Dame Hansen, and
Joel, too, for me. In fancy, I imprint another kiss upon your brow,
around which the shining crown of the brides of the Telemark will cast
a saint-like halo. Once more, farewell, dearest Hulda, farewell!
"Your devoted lover,
"OLE KAMP."
CHAPTER II.
Dal is a modest hamlet consisting of but a few houses; some on either
side of a road that is little more than a bridle-path, others scattered over
the surrounding hills. But they all face the narrow valley of Vesfjorddal,
with their backs to the line of hills to the north, at the base of which
flows the Maan.
A little church erected in 1855, whose chancel is pierced by two narrow
stained-glass windows, lifts its square belfry from out a leafy grove
hard by. Here and there rustic bridges cross the rivulets that dance
merrily along toward the river. In the distance are two or three
primitive saw-mills, run by water-power, with a wheel to move the saw,
as well as a wheel to move the beam or the tree; and seen from a little
distance, the chapel, saw-mills, houses, and cabins, all seem to be
enveloped in a soft olive haze that emanates from the dark-green firs
and the paler birches which either singly or in groups extend from the
winding banks of the Maan to the crests of the lofty mountains.
Such is the fresh and laughing hamlet of Dal, with its picturesque
dwellings, painted, some of them, in delicate green or pale pink tints,
others in such glaring colors as bright yellow and blood-red. The roofs
of birch bark, covered with turf, which is mown in the autumn, are

crowned with natural flowers. All this is indescribably charming, and
eminently characteristic of the most picturesque country in the world.
In short, Dal is in the Telemark, the Telemark is in Norway, and
Norway is in Switzerland, with thousands of fiords that permit the sea
to kiss the feet of its mountains.
The Telemark composes the broad portion of the immense horn that
Norway forms between Bergen and Christiania.
This dependency of the prefecture of Batsberg, has the mountains and
glaciers of Switzerland, but it is not Switzerland. It has gigantic
water-falls like North America, but it is not America. The landscape is
adorned with picturesque cottages, and processions of inhabitants, clad
in costumes of a former age, like Holland, but it is not Holland. The
Telemark is far better than any or all of these; it is the Telemark, noted
above all countries in the world for the beauty of its scenery. The writer
has had the pleasure of visiting it. He has explored it thoroughly, in a
kariol with relays of post-horses--when he could get them--and he
brought back with him such a vivid recollection of its manifold charms
that he would be glad to convey some idea of it to the reader of this
simple narrative.
At the date of this story, 1862, Norway was not yet traversed by the
railroad that now enables one to go from Stockholm to Drontheim, by
way of Christiania. Now, an extensive network of iron rails extends
entirely across these two Scandinavian countries, which are so averse to
a united existence. But imprisoned in a railroad-carriage, the traveler,
though he makes much more rapid progress than in a kariol, misses all
the originality that formerly pervaded the routes of travel. He misses
the journey through Southern Sweden on the curious Gotha Canal, in
which the steamboats, by rising from lock to lock, manage to reach an
elevation of three hundred feet. Nor does he have an opportunity to
visit the falls of Trolletann, nor Drammen, nor Kongsberg, nor any of
the beauties of the Telemark.
In those days the railroad existed only upon paper. Twenty years were
to elapse before one could traverse the Scandinavian kingdom from one
shore to the other in forty hours, and visit the North Cape on excursion

tickets to Spitzberg.
In those days Dal was, and may it long remain, the central point for
foreign or native tourists, these last being for the most part students
from Christiania. From Dal they could wander over the entire Telemark
and Hardanger region, explore the valley of Vesfjorddal between Lakes
Mjos and Tinn, and visit the wonderful cataracts of the Rjukan Tun.
The hamlet boasts of but one inn, but that is certainly the most
attractive and comfortable imaginable, and one of the most important
also, for it can offer four bed-chambers for the accommodation of its
guests. In a word, it is Dame Hansen's inn.
A few benches surround the base of its pink walls, which are separated
from the ground by a substantial granite foundation.