hould like to see them. Why, you see they rise
above the steamer's main-topmast."

Lincoln took the book, and read the description; but he was none the
wiser for his labor, for the narrow strait through which the steamer
in the picture was passing was not particularly described. The book
was shown to the pilot, who did not know just where the place was; but
after he had been told that the steamer came from Gottenburg, and was
on her way to Christiania, he thought that the bold rocks must be in
the vicinity of Frederiksvaern. He offered to take the ship through
the pass, as the wind was fair, and Mr. Lowington consented that he
should do so, for in order to enable the students to see the fine
scenery on the fjord, the studies were to be laid aside for the day.

"I don't see where there can be anything like this," said Ryder, as he
surveyed the shores.

"There are plenty of islands here, but certainly none of them rise to
any such heights as those in the picture," replied Lincoln. "They are
bare rocks out at sea, but some of them are a little green farther in.
It don't begin to be so wild as I supposed it was in these parts. Why,
I have read and heard so much about the Christiania Fjord, that I
supposed it was the grandest scenery in the world."

"It don't look much like the picture--does it?" laughed Ryder.

In a short time the ship was approaching the narrow pass. The cliffs
on each side were very bold and rugged, and if the students had not
been feasting themselves with grand anticipations, they would have
appreciated the scenery much better. Ryder and Lincoln laughed when
they compared the reality with the pictures they had. The scenery
could not be called grand, though it was certainly very fine. The
strait was very narrow, and on each side of it rings were fastened in
the rocks, which were painted white around them, for the convenience
of vessels warping out in a calm or against the wind. On the high
rock,--it could not have been a hundred feet high,--at the right, was
a small fort, which looked grim and terrible in its way, but which any
well-ordered man of war, with modern ordnance, could have battered
down in half an hour.

Passing through the strait, the ship came in sight of the small
village of Frederiksvaern, which is a naval station, where a number of
gunboats are housed in a series of uniform buildings. The town itself
is only a hamlet, but as the vessels proceeded, those on board saw
Laurvig at the