you very much," I said, "for
we have had happy times together." Then we sailed away. Now I have laid
aside my Lapp costume, and I am clad in the garb of a fisherman. I am
clothed in a suit of oilskin garments, over my woollens, to protect me
from the wet. I wear a big sou'wester, instead of a cap, to keep the
rain and the spray from running down my neck, and huge sea-boots to keep
my legs and feet dry. In these I am ready to brave the storms of the
Arctic Ocean. Now a boat will be my sleigh, its sail my reindeer: these
will carry me onward on the sea, as the others have done on the snow.

As I stood quietly on deck looking at the sea, the captain said to me,
"For a wonder we have pleasant weather. This winter we have had nothing
but a succession of gales or terrific squalls, and what is worse,
blinding snowstorms, when we could not even see each other on deck."

[Illustration: "I am clad in the garb of a fisherman."]

The _Ragnild_--such was the name of our vessel--was a staunch Norwegian
brig that had weathered many a gale on the stormy coast of Norway and
the Arctic Sea. She was bound for the coast of Finmarken, on the east
side of North Cape, to buy codfish. On board were provisions and
clothing, boots, etc., for sale to the fishermen we were to meet in the
coast settlements.

Our crew was composed of most sturdy seafaring men. The name of the
captain was Ole Petersen, a real old salt who had been at sea for nearly
fifty years and was part owner of the craft.

John Andersen was the first mate; the sailors were Lars, Evert, Ivor,
Hakon, Pehr, and Harald. All of these men had encountered many a gale,
and two had been wrecked.

Towards nine o'clock that evening, the captain and I went to our bunks,
the captain leaving the first mate and three men on the watch.

When I awoke in the morning the _Ragnild_ was rolling heavily; we were
in the midst of an angry sea and of a great gale, and while I was
dressing I was thrown from one side of my little stateroom to the other,
and it was no fun. I came on deck, and as I looked at the big waves I
said, "The wind and the waves are in their ugly mood." The wind howled
and shrieked through the rigging, and waves were like big hills. I
thought of the many wrecks of ships and boats, and of the multitude of
passengers and seafaring men that have been drowned since people have
sailed on the seas.

The captain murmured to me, "This is ugly weather indeed. We must employ
all the