time, and so,
from front to rear, they were jammed up into the smallest space they
could occupy.

"Hallo! what's wrong?" shouted Grant.

"Oh! nothing, only a trace or something broken," replied Fred. "Mend it
in a minute."

It was mended in a minute, and away they went again on their reckless
course over hill and dale.

The mending of the trace was a simple affair. The harness of each pony
consisted of nothing more than the reins, a wooden collar, and a wooden
saddle. The shafts were fastened to the collar by means of an iron pin,
and this pin was secured in its place by a green withe or birch-bough
twisted in a peculiar manner, so as to resemble a piece of rope. This
was the only part of the harness that could break, so that when an
accident of the kind occurred the driver had only to step into the woods
and cut a new one. It is a rough-and-ready style of thing, but well
suited to the rough country and the simple people of Norway.

Fred, being anxious to see as much as possible, had compelled his guide
to turn out of the usual high-road, the consequence of which was that he
soon got into difficulties; for although each shooscarle knew the
district through which they were passing, they could not quite
understand to what part of the country this peculiar Englishman was
going. This is not surprising, for the peculiar Englishman was not
quite sure of that point himself!

On this particular night they seemed to have got quite lost among the
hills. At every stage of ten or twelve English miles they changed
horses and drivers. The drivers on this particular stage were more
stupid than usual, or Fred Temple was not so bright. Be that as it may,
about midnight they arrived at a gloomy, savage place, lying deep among
the hills, with two or three wooden huts, so poor-looking and so dirty
that a well-bred dog would have objected to go into them. Fred pulled
up when he came to this place, and Grant's pony pulled up when his nose
touched the back of Fred's cart. Grant himself and his man were sound
asleep. In a few seconds Sam joined them.

There was a brilliant, rosy light on the mountain-tops, but this came
down in a subdued form to the travellers in the valley. The place
scarcely deserved the name of a valley. It was more of a gorge. The
mountains rose up like broken walls on each side, until they seemed to
pierce the sky. If you could fancy that a thunderbolt had split the
mountain from top to bottom, a