fields in
the uncertain light, blindly following our leader, Braisted and I
driving by turns, and already much fatigued. After a long time, we
descended a steep hill, to the Ljusne River. The water foamed and
thundered under the bridge, and I could barely see that it fell in a
series of rapids over the rocks.

At Mo Myskie, which we reached at eight o'clock, our horses had been
ready four hours, which gave us a dollar banco _vantapenningar_ (waiting
money) to pay. The landlord, a sturdy, jolly fellow, with grizzly hair
and a prosperous abdomen, asked if we were French, and I addressed him
in that language. He answered in English on finding that we were
Americans. On his saying that he had learned English in Tripoli, I
addressed him in Arabic. His eyes flashed, he burst into a roaring laugh
of the profoundest delight, and at once answered in the majestic
gutturals of the Orient. "_Allah akhbar!_" he cried; "I have been
waiting twenty years for some one to speak to me in Arabic, and you are
the first!" He afterwards changed to Italian, which he spoke perfectly
well, and preferred to any foreign language. We were detained half an
hour by his delight, and went off forgetting to pay for a bottle of
beer, the price of which I sent back by the _skjutsbonde_, or
postillion.

This _skjutsbonde_ was a stupid fellow, who took us a long, circuitous
road, in order to save time. We hurried along in the darkness,
constantly crying out "_Kor pa!_" (Drive on!) and narrowly missing a
hundred overturns. It was eleven at night before we reached the inn at
Kungsgarden, where, fortunately, the people were awake, and the pleasant
old landlady soon had our horses ready. We had yet sixteen English miles
to Bro, our lodging-place, where we should have arrived by eight
o'clock. I hardly know how to describe the journey. We were half asleep,
tired out, nearly frozen, (mercury below zero) and dashed along at
haphazard, through vast dark forests, up hill and down, following the
sleepy boy who drove ahead with our baggage. A dozen times the sled,
swaying from side to side like a pendulum, tilted, hung in suspense a
second, and then righted itself again. The boy fell back on the hay and
slept, until Braisted, creeping up behind, startled him with terrific
yells in his ears. Away then dashed the horse, down steep declivities,
across open, cultivated valleys, and into the woods again. After
midnight the moon rose, and the cold was intenser than ever.