oke. As each
guest passed out, he or she said to the captain, "_tak for mad_," which
is a manner and custom, and means "_thanks for meat_." With the
exception of these three words, not a single syllable, to the best of my
belief, was uttered by any one during the whole course of that meal!

Of course the gentlemen of our party performed many wonderful exploits
in fishing, for sea-trout and salmon abound in Norway, and the river
beds are very rugged.

In that land fishing cannot be styled the "gentle art." It is a
tearing, wearing, rasping style of work. An account of the catching of
one fish will prove this.

One morning I had gone off to fish by myself, with a Norwegian youth to
gaff and carry the fish. Coming to a sort of weir, with a deep pool
above and a riotous rapid below, I put on a salmon fly and cast into the
pool. At once a fish rose and was hooked. It was not a big one--only
12 pounds or thereabouts--but quite big enough to break rod and line if
not played respectfully.

For some time, as is usual with salmon, he rushed about the pool, leaped
out of the water, and bored up stream. Then he took to going down
stream steadily. Now this was awkward, for when a fish of even that
size resolves to go down stream, nothing can stop him. My efforts were
directed to turning him before he reached the rapid, for, once into
that, I should be compelled to follow him or break the line--perhaps the
rod also.

At last he reached the head of the rapid. I put on a heavy strain. The
rod bent like a hoop and finally began to crack, so I was compelled to
let him go.

At the lower end of the pool there was a sort of dam, along which I ran,
but soon came to the end of it, where it was impossible to reach the
shore owing to the dense bushes which overhung the stream. But the fish
was now in the rapid and was forced down by the foaming water. Being
very unwilling to break the line or lose the fish, I went slowly into
the rapid until the water reached the top of my long wading boots--
another step and it was over them, but that salmon would not--indeed
could not--stop. The water filled my boots at once, and felt very cold
at first, but soon became warm, and each boot was converted into a
warmish bath, in which the legs felt reasonably comfortable.

I was reckless now, and went on, step by step, until I was up to the
waist, then to the arm-pits, and then I spread out one arm and swam off
while with the other I hel