?" was the first question. "The
gentlemen can have fresh salmon and potatoes, and red wine if they wish
it," answered the mistress. Of course we wished it; we wished for any
food clean enough to be eatable, and the promise of such fare was like
the falling of manna in the desert. The salmon, fresh from the stream,
was particularly fine; the fish here is so abundant that the landlord
had caught 962, as he informed us, in the course of one season.

We had but two miles of land before another sheet of water intervened,
and our carrioles were again taken to pieces. The postillions and
boatmen along this route were great scamps, frequently asking more than
the legal fare, and in one instance threatened to prevent us from going
on unless we paid it. I shall not bore the reader with accounts of our
various little squabbles on the road, all of which tended more and more
to convince us, that unless the Norwegians were a great deal more
friendly, kind, and honest a few years ago than they are now, they have
been more over-praised than any people in the world. I must say,
however, that they are bungling swindlers, and could only be successful
with the greenest of travellers. The moment an imposition is resisted,
and the stranger shows himself familiar with the true charges and
methods of travel, they give up the attempt; but the desire to cheat is
only less annoying to one than cheating itself. The fees for travelling
by _skyds_ are, it is true, disproportionably low, and in many instances
the obligation to furnish horses is no doubt an actual loss to the
farmer. Very often we would have willingly paid a small increase upon
the legal rates if it had been asked for as a favour; but when it was
boldly demanded as a right, and backed by a falsehood, we went not a
stiver beyond the letter of the law.

Landing at Evanger, an intelligent landlord, who had four brothers in
America, gave us return horses to Vossevangen, and we enjoyed the long
twilight of the warm summer evening, while driving along the hills which
overlook the valley connecting the lakes of Vossevangen and Evanger. It
was a lovely landscape, ripe with harvest, and the air full of mellow,
balmy odours from the flowers and grain. The black spire of Vossevangen
church, standing dark against the dawning moonlight, was the welcome
termination of our long day's journey, and not less welcome were our
clean and comfortable quarters in the house of a merchant there. Here we
left