logs, then climbed
a hill, and trudged for some distance across stubble-fields, until my
patience was quite worn out, and Braisted made use of some powerful
maritime expressions. Finally, we reached a house, which we entered
without more ado. The close, stifling atmosphere, and the sound of hard
breathing on all sides, showed us that a whole family had been for some
hours asleep there. Our guide thumped on the door, and hailed, and at
length somebody awoke. "Can you give two travellers a bed?" she asked.
"No," was the comfortable reply, followed by the yell of an aroused baby
and the noises of the older children. We retreated at once, and opened a
battery of reproaches on the old woman for having brought us on a fool's
errand. "There is Ohlsen's," she replied, very quietly, "I think I can
get you a bed there." Whereupon we entered another house in the same
unceremonious manner, but with a better result. A plump, good-natured
housewife jumped out of bed, went to an opposite door, and thumped upon
it. "Lars!" she cried, "come out of that this minute!" As we entered,
with a torch of dry fir, Lars, who proved to be a middle-aged man, got
out of bed sleepily, picked up his clothes and marched off. The hostess
then brought clean sheets and pillow-cases, and by midnight we were
sweetly and blissfully stowed away together in the place vacated by poor
Lars.

Nothing could exceed the kindness and courtesy of the good people in the
morning. The hostess brought us coffee, and her son went off to get us a
horse and cart. She would make no charge, as we had had so little, she
said, and was quite grateful for the moderate sum I gave her. We had a
wild road over hills, covered with pine forests, through the breaks in
which we now and then caught a glimpse of a long lake to the westward,
shining with a steel-blue gleam in the morning sun. There were but few
clearings along the road, and miles frequently intervened without a sign
of human habitation. We met, however, with great numbers of travellers,
mostly farmers, with laden hay-carts. It was Sunday morning, and I could
not help contrasting these people with those we had seen on the same day
three weeks previous whilst crossing the Fille Fjeld. Here, every one
had evidently been washed and combed: the men wore clean shirts and
stockings, and the women chemises of snowy whiteness under their gay
boddices. They were mostly Dalecarlians, in the picturesque costume of
the province. We ente