his steed, and made for the shore. His horse went to the very edge of
the water, sniffed at the approaching wave and retreated.

My uncle, who was, sooth to say, quite as obstinate as the beast he
bestrode, insisted on his making the desired advance. This attempt was
followed by a new refusal on the part of the horse which quietly shook
his head. This demonstration of rebellion was followed by a volley of
words and a stout application of whipcord; also followed by kicks on the
part of the horse, which threw its head and heels upwards and tried to
throw his rider. At length the sturdy little pony, spreading out his
legs, in a stiff and ludicrous attitude, got from under the Professor's
legs, and left him standing, with both feet on a separate stone, like
the Colossus of Rhodes.

"Wretched animal!" cried my uncle, suddenly transformed into a foot
passenger--and as angry and ashamed as a dismounted cavalry officer on
the field of battle.

"Farja," said the guide, tapping him familiarly on the shoulder.

"What, a ferry boat!"

"Der," answered Hans, pointing to where lay the boat in
question--"there."

"Well," I cried, quite delighted with the information; "so it is."

"Why did you not say so before," cried my uncle; "why not start at
once?"

"Tidvatten," said the guide.

"What does he say?" I asked, considerably puzzled by the delay and the
dialogue.

"He says tide," replied my uncle, translating the Danish word for my
information.

"Of course I understand--we must wait till the tide serves."

"For bida?" asked my uncle.

"Ja," replied Hans.

My uncle frowned, stamped his feet and then followed the horses to where
the boat lay.

I thoroughly understood and appreciated the necessity for waiting,
before crossing the fjord, for that moment when the sea at its highest
point is in a state of slack water. As neither the ebb nor flow can then
be felt, the ferry boat was in no danger of being carried out to sea, or
dashed upon the rocky coast.

The favorable moment did not come until six o'clock in the evening. Then
my uncle, myself, and guide, two boatmen and the four horses got into a
very awkward flat-bottom boat. Accustomed as I had been to the steam
ferry boats of the Elbe, I found the long oars of the boatmen but sorry
means of locomotion. We were more than an hour in crossing the fjord;
but at length the passage was concluded without accident.

Half an hour later we reached Gardar.

CHAPTER 10