rful
object to look upon; yet he has the audacity, (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 minor 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 subdued 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 Moldeoen, 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 sojourn is somewhat out of the way and far removed from civilised
markets. A few poverty-stricken natives stood on the rude stone pier as
we landed, and slowly assisted us to unload. At the time I conceived
that the idiotical expression of their countenances 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 puffed away into the mysterious depths of
one of the dark-blue fjords, and we were left on a desolate 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 stolid imbecility while I was
talking to him, and m