ter turn back now, Sivert," says he.

"H'm," says Sivert, and goes on with him.

They pass by Storborg, by Breidablik, and the sound follows them all
the way from the hills here and there; 'tis no military music like
in the towns, nay, but voices--a proclamation: Spring has come. Then
suddenly the first chirp of a bird is heard from a treetop, waking
others, and a calling and answering on every side; more than a song,
it is a hymn of praise. The emigrant feels home-sick already, maybe,
something weak and helpless in him; he is going off to America, and
none could be more fitted to go than he.

"You turn back now, Sivert," says he.

"Ay, well," says his brother. "If you'd rather."

They sit down at the edge of the wood, and see the village just below
them, the store and the quay, Brede's old lodging-house; some men are
moving about by the steamer, getting ready.

"Well, no time to stay sitting here," says Eleseus, getting up again.

"Fancy you going all that way," says Sivert.

And Eleseus answers: "But I'll be coming back again. And I'll have a
better sort of trunk that journey."

As they say good-bye, Sivert thrusts something into his brother's
hand, a bit of something wrapped in paper. "What is it?" asks Eleseus.

"Don't forget to write often," says Sivert. And so he goes.

Eleseus opens the paper and looks; 'tis the gold piece, twenty-five
_Kroner_ in gold. "Here, don't!" he calls out. "You mustn't do that!"

Sivert walks on.

Walks on a little, then turns round and sits down again at the edge of
the wood. More folk astir now down by the steamer; passengers going on
board, Eleseus going on board; the boat pushes off from the side and
rows away. And Eleseus is gone to America.

He never came back.

Chapter XII

A notable procession coming up to Sellanraa; Something laughable to
look at, maybe, but more than that. Three men with enormous burdens,
with sacks hanging down from their shoulders, front and back. Walking
one behind the other, and calling to one another with jesting words,
but heavily laden. Little Andresen, chief clerk, is head of that
procession; indeed, 'tis his procession; he has fitted out himself,
and Sivert from Sellanraa, and one other, Fredrik Stroem from
Breidablik, for the expedition. A notable little man is Andresen; his
shoulder is weighed down slantwise on one side, and his jacket pulled
all awry at the neck, the way he goes, but he carries his burden on
and on.

St