tart. Brede Olsen
had fairly threatened him when he went down to fetch the apparatus
and tools; ay, had said to him in as many words: "You don't seem like
remembering how I saved your life last winter!"

"'Twas Oline saved my life," answered Axel.

"Ho, indeed! And didn't I carry you down myself on my own poor
shoulders? Anyway, you were clever enough to buy up my place in
summer-time and leave me homeless in the winter." Ay, Brede was deeply
offended; he went on:

"But you can take the telegraph for me, ay, all the rubble of it for
me. I and mine we'll go down to the village and start on something
there--you don't know what it'll be, but wait and see. What about a
hotel place where folk can get coffee? You see but we'll manage all
right. There's my wife can sell things to eat and drink as well as
another, and I can go out on business and make a heap more than you
ever did. But I don't mind telling you, Axel, I could make things
awkward for you in many odd ways, seeing all I know about the
telegraph and things; ay, 'twould be easy enough both to pull down
poles and cut the line and all. And then you to go running out after
it midway in the busy time. That's all I'll say to you, Axel, and you
bear it in mind...."

Now Axel should have been down and brought up the machines from the
quay--all over gilt and colouring they were, like pictures to see. And
he might have had them to look at all that day, and learn the manner
of using them--but now they must wait. 'Twas none so pleasant to have
to put aside all manner of necessary work to run and see after a
telegraph line. But 'twas the money....

Up on the top of the hill he meets Aronsen. Ay, Aronsen the trader
standing there looking and gazing out into the storm, like a vision
himself. What did he want there? No peace in his mind now, it seems,
but he must go up the fjeld himself and look at the mine with his own
eyes. And this, look you, Trader Aronsen had done from sheer earnest
thought of his own and his family's future. Here he is, face to face
with bare desolation on the forsaken hills, machines lying there to
rust, carts and material of all sorts left out in the open--'twas
dismal to see. Here and there on the walls of the huts were placards,
notices written by hand, forbidding any one to damage or remove the
company's property--tools, carts, or buildings.

Axel stops for a few words with the mad trader, and asks if he has
come out shooting.

"Shooting? Ay, i