ther pretty things.

But the greatest joy of all is the sight of a wide marsh covered with
the delicious _multebaer_, whose luscious, yellow fruit and gold-red
leaves brighten the country-side. This is the cloudberry, found in
Scotland and in the North of England, and to come on a stretch of
this fruit after a long, hot walk is a thing worth living for. Besides
this best of all Norse wild fruits, the fjelds produce many excellent
berries, such as crowberries, whortleberries, marsh whortleberries,
bearberries, dewberries, cranberries, and others. The children of the
country parts all over Norway spend much of their time in feasting
on these little fruits, and during the summer and autumn months their
hands and faces are generally well stained with the dark juice.

Upwards, beyond these pleasant pastures, when you have left behind
the last saeter-shanty and the last thicket of birches, you reach a
world where, except for the scattered Tourist Club huts and their
summer caretakers, you cannot count on coming across either dwelling
or human being.

Wandering far afield, you may meet a couple of Lapps with their herd
of reindeer, and down by one of the tarns you may chance on a rough
stone shelter, inhabited for the time being by two Norwegian fishermen,
whose nets are laid in the mountain lake.

All over this lofty wilderness the snow lies deep for several months
of the year, but as soon as it begins to thaw it disappears rapidly,
when, as in Switzerland, Nature's garden immediately blossoms forth
in all its glory. It must be confessed, however, that the carpet of
Alpine flowers on the Norwegian high-fjelds cannot compare with that of
Switzerland. On the great mountain plateau of Norway everything gives
way to the lichen-like reindeer moss, and the flowers are merely in
patches, or growing in masses only in those swampy parts where the
moss does not thrive.

The fjelds furnish a recreation-ground for the Norwegian
townsman. There he can lead the life that he loves best, and one week
of the wilds will set him up for the remainder of the year. Even though
he cares nothing for shooting or fishing, the sense of freedom as he
does his daily tramp delights his soul. And his wife or his sister as
often as not will accompany him, for the Norwegian ladies are brave
walkers, and know how to rough it.

But the majority of Norsemen are good sportsmen and good fishermen,
and in most seasons there are plenty of fjeld-ryper to be s