es, I at length reached a point
from which I had a view of some ruins and farm-houses still some
distance below. Following the line of the regular trail till it struck
into the cliffs, I had no farther difficulty in reaching the valley.

The good people at the farm-house--a family by the name of
Petersen--received me in the kindest manner, with many expressions of
wonder at the risk I had run in crossing the mountain without a guide.
It was with considerable difficulty we made ourselves understood. None
of the family spoke any language except their own. The son, indeed, a
fine young man of twenty, understood a few words of English, but that
was all. There is something, nevertheless, in genuine kindness and
hospitality that makes itself intelligible without the aid of language.
I was immediately invited into the house, and while young Petersen
entertained me with old prints and Faroese books, his mother prepared
an excellent lunch. Tired and worried after my trip, I could offer no
objection. Never shall I forget the coffee and cream, and the butter
and bread, and delicate fruit-tarts placed on the nice white
table-cloth by the good Mrs. Petersen. I ate and drank, and glowed all
over with a childlike relish of the good things, while the whole family
gathered round and tried to make me understand that they had a relative
in California, who lived in the mines at a place called Six-mile-bar,
and that they were glad to see a Californian, and wanted to know all
about California. It is wonderful with how few words we can communicate
our ideas when necessity compels us to depend upon our ingenuity.
Before I had parted from that family the whole matter was perfectly
explained; the history of their absent relative was quite clear to me,
and they had a very fair conception of the kind of country in which he
lived. Upon no consideration would they receive compensation for the
lunch, and they even seemed offended when I endeavored to press it upon
them. This, from people whom I had never seen before--a plain country
family living in a wilderness where such luxuries as sugar and coffee
could only be had at considerable expense--was absolutely refreshing.
For the first time since my arrival in Europe, after having traversed
the whole Continent, I had encountered a specimen of the human race
capable of refusing money. Subsequently I learned that this was the
common practice in the Faroe Islands. The poorest shepherd freely
offers to the