nce of
the mountains has a mountain pasture, to which the herds and flocks are
driven in early summer, and where they feed till the first frosts come
on. The herdmen and dairy-women live on the mountain, beside their
cattle, during this season, and enjoy the mode of life extremely. The
mountain pasture belonging to a farm is called the Seater. The
procession of herds and flocks, and herdmen and dairy-women with their
utensils, all winding up the mountain--"going to the seater," is a
pretty sight on an early summer's day.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

VOGEL ISLET.

Who was ever happier than Rolf, when abroad in his skiff, on one of the
most glorious days of the year? He found his angling tolerably
successful near home; but the further he went, the more the herrings
abounded; and he therefore dropped down the fiord with tide, fishing as
he receded, till all home objects had disappeared. First, the
farm-house, with its surrounding buildings, its green paddock, and
shining white beach, was hidden behind the projecting rocks. Then Thor
islet appeared to join with the nearest shore, from which its bushes of
stunted birch seemed to spring. Then, as the skiff dropped lower and
lower down, the interior mountains appeared to rise above the rocks
which closed in the head of the fiord, and the snowy peak of Sulitelma
stood up clear amidst the pale blue sky; the glaciers on its sides
catching the sunlight on different points, and glittering so that the
eye could scarcely endure to rest upon the mountain. When he came to
the narrow part of the fiord, near the creek which had been the scene of
Erica's exploit, Rolf laid aside his rod, with the bright hook that
herrings so much admire, to guide his canoe through the currents caused
by the approach of the rocks, and contraction of the passage; and he
then wished he had brought Erica with him, so lovely was the scene.
Every crevice of the rocks, even where there seemed to be no soil, was
tufted with bushes, every twig of which was bursting into the greenest
leaf, while, here and there, a clump of dark pines overhung some busy
cataract, which, itself over-shadowed, sent forth its little clouds of
spray, dancing and glittering in the sunlight. A pair of fishing eagles
were perched on a high ledge of rock, screaming to the echoes, so that
the dash of the currents was lost in the din. Rolf did wish that Erica
was here when he thought how the colour would have mounted into her
cheek, and