them. "Well! I'll try what divesting myself
of my knickerbockers will do!" Vain hope!
The more I took off, the more interested they
seemed in the operation. I made a bolt, as I
was, into bed. How long they remained I know
not, for I soon fell fast asleep, and only awoke
next morning when the good woman brought
me in a large cup of hot coffee and a small
bowl of cold water, holding rather less than
half a pint, to wash in. Drinking the first and
discarding the second, I went and plunged into
the river, to the dismay and astonishment of
two or three men, who shouted after me and
ran away. They thought I had gone mad, for
a Norwegian peasant never washes himself but
once a year, and then only a very little!

I remained there three days, and if any roving
Englishman wants to know what good trout-
fishing is, let him go to Trysil, on the borders
of Sweden.

On my return to Rendalen, my host had
planned an elk-hunt for me. There were not
many reindeer, he thought, but he felt sure he
could show me an elk within a week, if I liked.
Of course I liked! So one morning we started
early for the forest, accompanied by a cunning
old hunter holding a little dog in leash, reputed
a wonder for tracking elk, bear, or reindeer.

A Norwegian mountaineer is as sure-footed
as his pony. See him skip over a river,
scarcely touching the stones which here and
there invitingly peep up above the surface, but
which are often unsteady. Instinct and long
practice teach him where to put his foot just at
the right time. How I envied him! My first
attempt at imitation sent me floundering on my
back in the middle of a brook; but I got more
adroit afterwards.

There are few things more uninteresting in
my opinion than the interior of a Norwegian pine
forest, though the Poet Laureate did come out
in the same boat with me all the way to Norway
only to hear the "Æolian-harp-like" murmur of
the wind through its boughs. It is the same
thing over and over again; no variety, nothing
to relieve the monotony, not even a jay's music to
enliven one. No wonder he made no allusion to
it in the ldylls, which came out shortly afterwards,
for I'll be hanged if I could see any poetry in it.
I can solemnly aver that for a whole hour I saw
no winged animal (mosquitoes always excepted)
save a black woodpecker, which looked more like
a Wellington boot with a red top, climbing up
the rotten stem of a fir-tree, than anything else.

All at once I saw my hunter flump down on
his knees in a devotional attitude, with his eyes
humbly cast down to the ground. The very dog,
too, seemed to be similarly affected. Then he
got up and proceeded to a low birch-tree, and
commenced examining the leaves one by one,
while his dog stood up all the while on his hind
legs, and sniffed away at them as if he would
collapse. At length it dawned upon me that the
hunter was not religious-mad, but that an elk had
something to do with his condition, especially
when he showed me a leaf which had only
recently been browsed, and which a rabbit could
not possibly have reached, even if such creatures
did exist in Norway. It was a fine sight to
watch the hunter and his dog; they seemed to
understand each other thoroughly, as they kept
looking at one another, as if comparing notes.

There are few animals so wary as an elk.
Living in the thickest parts of the forest, their
ears stand them in better stead than their eyes.
In hunting elks you must not think of winking.
The old hunter and his dog went first; it was
as good as a play to watch them, each setting a
foot to the ground at the same moment and
with such a grave air; I came next, following as
lightly as fourteen stone could. Maybe we had
gone in this way half an hour, and I was beginning
to get fatigued, when all at once we came
plump on two full-grown elk, at about sixty
yards' distance. How noble they looked! Quite
six feet in height! A sight like this is a
reward for a day's toil, and ducking into the
bargain! A sight like this——

"Bother your sights!" cries Bogus, to whom
I have just been telling the story; "can't you
say if you shot one, instead of apostrophising
their beauty in that ridiculous manner!"

"My dear Bogus, I did not shoot one: firstly,
because the hunter's head was in the way;
secondly, because, when his head was out of the
way, the elks had gone; thirdly, because my
rifle missed fire. So I ground my teeth in
despair, and put on a fresh cap."

But, a few days afterwards I was more
fortunate. We started early; that is, I, my host,
and the hunter—who I now learnt from my
friend had only recently returned from the
fortress at Christiania, where he had worked
his time of imprisonment out, as a galley-slave,
for having killed his brother. I felt extremely
glad I had not been aware of the circumstance
when I had to bivouac out alone with him in
the forest.

Before long we came on some very fresh
tracks; at least, the hunter and his little dog
seemed to think so, judging from the serious
and earnest way in which they regarded them.
Further and further we penetrated into the
recesses of the forest, stepping softly and gently
as we went. The dog became intensely excited,
but never gave tongue. The well-trained little
creatures are taught never to bark when held in
leash; it is only when they are set at liberty
that it is etiquette to do so. A crashing sound,
as if an elephant were dashing through a jungle,
made us turn our eyes to the left of us, and we
could just discern a monstrous elk disappearing
between the birch-trees.

Now was the time to slip the dog. No sooner
was he at liberty than off he set in pursuit,
giving tongue most lustily, as if to make
up for his long and continued silence. The
reason why he barked was plain enough; if he
had not barked, it would have been a matter
of sheer impossibility to follow on the right
course through the tangled and intricate forest.
His voice began to grow faint and fainter,
and I began to fear that we should lose the
elk. But neither of my companions seemed to