oms, and called in
vain to their natural protectors for assistance. The sea was smooth;
the sun shot forth through the whirling rain-clouds his brightest
August beams. All along the shores of the Fjord, the rocky points,
jutting abruptly from the water, rose like embattled towers, crowned
with a variegated covering of moss, grim and hoary with the wild winds
and scathing winters of the North. Beautiful little valleys, ravines,
and slopes of woodland of such rich and glittering green opened out to
us on either side, as we swept past the headlands, that the vision was
dazzled with the profusion and variety of the charms bestowed upon
this wilderness of romantic scenery. A group of fishermen's huts,
behind a bold and jagged point of rocks--a rude lugger or
fishing-smack, manned by a hardy crew of Norskmen, rough and
weather-beaten as the ocean monsters of their stormy coast, gliding
out of some nook among the rocky inlets--here the cozy little cottage
of some well-to-do sea-captain, half fisher, half farmer, with a gang
of white-headed little urchins running out over the cliffs to take a
peep at the passing steamer, the frugal matron standing in the door
resplendent in her red woolen petticoat and fanciful head-dress,
knitting a pair of stockings, or some such token of love, for her
absent lord--there, a pretty little village, with a church, a wharf,
and a few store-houses, shrinking back behind the protecting wing of
some huge and rugged citadel of rocks, the white cottages glittering
pleasantly in the rays of the evening sun, and the smoke curling up
peacefully over the surrounding foliage, and floating off till it
vanished in the rich glow of the sky--all so calm, so dreamy in colors
and outline that the imagination is absolutely bewildered with the
varied feast of beauties: such are the characteristic features of this
noble sheet of water.

The Christiania Fjord is one of the largest in Norway. Commencing at
Frederickstadt on the one side and Sandesund on the other, it extends
into the interior a distance of seventy or eighty miles, making one of
the finest natural harbors in the world. The water is deep, and the
shores are almost rock-bound. In many places the navigation is
somewhat intricate, owing to the numerous rocky islands and rugged
headlands; but the Norwegian pilots are thoroughly experienced in
their business, and know every foot of the way as familiarly as they
know their own snug little cabins perched up