and
somewhat noted for their skill in carving bone and wooden
knife-handles. I should have mentioned that, wild as this part of the
country is, the traveler is constantly reminded by the telegraphic
poles all along the route that he is never quite beyond the limits of
civilization. Such is the force of habit that I was strongly tempted
to send a message to somebody from Dombaas; but, upon turning the
matter over in my mind, could think of nobody within the limits of
Norway who felt sufficient interest in my explorations to be likely to
derive much satisfaction from the announcement that I had reached the
edge of the Dovre Fjeld in safety. The name of a waiter who was good
enough to black my boots at the Victoria Hotel occurred to me, but it
was hardly possible he would appreciate a telegraphic dispatch from
one who had no more pressing claims to his attention. I thought of
sending a few lines of remembrance to the Wild Girl who had come so
near breaking my neck. This notion, however, I gave over upon
reflecting that she might attach undue weight to my expressions of
friendship, and possibly take it into her head that I was making love
to her--than which nothing could be farther from my intention. I had a
social chat with the telegraph-man, however--a very respectable and
intelligent person--who gave me the latest news; and with this, and
good supper and bed, I was obliged to rest content.

[Illustration: DOVRE FJELD.]

CHAPTER XXXII.

JOHN BULL ABROAD.

Leaving Dombaas at an early hour, I soon began to ascend a long slope,
reaching, by a gradual elevation, to the Dovre Fjeld. The vegetation
began to grow more and more scanty on the wayside, consisting mostly
of lichens and reindeer moss. I passed through some stunted groves of
pine, which, however, were bleached and almost destitute of foliage.
The ground on either side of the road was soft, black, and boggy,
abounding in springs and scarcely susceptible of cultivation. At this
elevation grain is rarely planted, though I was told potatoes and
other esculents are not difficult to raise. On the left of the road,
approaching the summit, lies a range of snow-capped mountains between
the Dovre Fjeld and Molde; on the right a series of rocky and barren
hills of sweeping outline, presenting an exceedingly desolate aspect.
In the course of an hour after leaving Dombaas, having walked most of
the way, I fairly reached the grand plateau of the Dovre Fjeld. The
sc