entirely deserted, its barns, out-houses and gardens utterly empty and
desolate. Its aspect saddened the whole landscape.

We stopped at the station of Lillehaave, which had only been established
the day before, and we were probably the first travellers who had
sojourned there. Consequently the people were unspoiled, and it was
quite refreshing to be courteously received, furnished with a trout
supper and excellent beds, and to pay therefor an honest price. The
morning was lowering, and we had rain part of the day; but, thanks to
our waterproofs and carriole aprons, we kept comfortably dry. During
this day's journey of fifty miles, we had very grand scenery, the
mountains gradually increasing in height and abruptness as we ascended
the Guldbrandsdal, with still more imposing cataracts "blowing their
trumpets from the steeps." At Viik, I found a complaint in the
post-book, written by an Englishman who had come with us from Hull,
stating that the landlord had made him pay five dollars for beating his
dog off his own. The complaint was written in English, of course, and
therefore useless so far as the authorities were concerned. The landlord
whom I expected, from this account, to find a surly, swindling fellow,
accosted us civilly, and invited us into his house to see some old
weapons, principally battle-axes. There was a cross-bow, a battered,
antique sword, and a buff coat, which may have been stripped from one of
Sinclair's men in the pass of Kringelen. The logs of his house, or part
of them, are said to have been taken from the dwelling in which the
saint-king Olaf--the apostle of Christianity in the North,--was born.
They are of the red Norwegian pine, which has a great durability; and
the legend may be true, although this would make them eight hundred and
fifty years old.

Colonel Sinclair was buried in the churchyard at Viik, and about fifteen
miles further we passed the defile of Kringelen, where his band was cut
to pieces. He landed in Romsdal's Fjord, on the western coast, with 900
men intending to force his way across the mountains to relieve
Stockholm, which was then (1612) besieged by the Danes. Some three
hundred of the peasants collected at Kringelen, gathered together rocks
and trunks of trees on the brow of the cliff, and, at a concerted
signal, rolled the mass down upon the Scotch, the greater part of whom
were crushed to death or hurled into the river. Of the whole force only
two escaped. A wooden table