in Norway, pleasant to witness, is the bringing
home the cattle from the SÅ“ters up the fjeld,
whither they are sent at the beginning of the
summer. They are brought down in the
middle of September, either for sale to avoid
the expense of feeding them through the long
winter, or to be kept in close confinement in
the cow-house for the next eight or nine
months. In either case it is a dreary change
for them, after the freedom of their mountain
pastures.

The herdsmen, carrying the dairy utensils,
or leading horses laden with them, head the
procession; and the cow bearing the bell
walks next, the others diligently following her
lead. When the cavalcade exchange land
for water, the amusement of the scene begins.
During a passage of this kind I spent,
one day, some hours at a ferry. It was
near the bend of the river, which, being
of considerable depth and undisturbed by a
single breeze, reflected the adjoining banks
and distant mountains with a like distinctness.
Some rafts of timber floating down had
run aground close to the landing-place on one
side of the water, and about these many of
the village children clambered, laughing in
the bright rays of the sun, and taking their
seats noisily, to see the passage of the cattle.
The ferry itself was, like many of ours in
England, a raft pulled across the water by a
rope; but the banks being at this point low
and rather muddy, there was here provided
the convenience of a little pier of timber logs
on either side. As soon as the first drove
appeared in sight over the hill immediately
opposite, the ferryman pushed over to meet
them, and having received the greater part
of the men and the horses, and the bell cow—I
suppose because she was not a good swimmer
—returned, and landed them over the way.
Then came chaos. The cattle, not much
relishing the sight of the broad water before
them, scampered off in all directions. Then
there was a flying abroad of men, a shouting
and a fighting with sticks after escaping tails,
until at last somebody succeeded in driving
some two or three cows into the stream.
These swam a few strokes, and then,
perceiving that they were not followed, they
rushed back, dripping and bellowing, and
throwing the whole herd into a fresh state of
dismay. Afterwards, the forcing of the first
few cows into the river, seemed at once to
gain for the herdsmen the contested point.
The success would seem then to be too great.
The cattle all rush on towards the water, and
pressed one upon another with so much
impetuosity that they arrived, quite unawares,
at the edge of the little pier which overhung
the margin of the river. Then, of course,
suddenly the forefeet missed their footing,
and, with an involuntary plunge head foremost,
cow after cow completely disappeared,
a flourish of the tail being the last thing
visible. That cow was happy who, upon
recovering her balance, was not immediately
tumbled over and again sent to the bottom.
Once fairly afloat upon the stream the whole
energy of the herd was spent in making
haste to get out on the other side. The
swimmers all threw back their heads, and
struggled boldly forward, bellowing by the
way for want of thought; and, since no part
was visible except the top of their heads, the
surface of the whole water bristled with
horns. The endeavours of the cattle to climb
the opposite bank on landing were most
ungainly, and contrasted with the graceful
rising of the horses from the water.
These being again laden, and the cows having
shaken themselves to the best of their
ability, the cavalcade moved forward. The
men attendant on it formed a picturesque
part of the whole scene, dressed as they were
in the peculiar costumes of their various
districts, which is not unlike that of the Tyrolese;
but, in addition, they often wear silver brooches
of considerable value and curious designs,
connected, now and then, by silver chains. They
speak the real old Norsk, in contradistinction
to the modem language so called, which is in
reality Danish. They are rich in legends and
historical traditions to pour out on those who
speak with them, but they mistrust the
modern dialect, and are only confidential
when they are talked with in their mother
tongue, and softened by a friendly pipe.

For a few days droves passed the ferry
four or five times in the course of the twenty-
four hours, varying in numbers from a herd
of fifty to one of nearly two hundred head.
Afterwards, there was scarcely a cow to be
seen in all the country round; every ox was
a stalled ox, and lived in the warmed cow-
house in company with sheep, ducks, fowls,
and, in short, the whole live stock belonging
to his owner. If he was not to see another
summer he awaited there his fate at the
November slaughtering.

Autumn is also, in Norway, the season
for sending timber down from high land
forests to the sea-ports at the mouths of
rivers, along which it is floated. While
falls and rapids interrupt the river logs
are sent down singly, each marked after
the owner's fashion. When they reach the
lower country and such obstacles have all
been passed, they are collected into rafts of
tolerable size, so that they support several
men and boys, who guide them on their way,
and now and then afford means of conveyance
to chance passengers. On their arrival at the
port the rafts are broken up, and shipped for
foreign countries. Holland receives from
Norway the chief portion of the smaller
timber, France being the best customer for
timber of a better quality.

FROSTY WEATHER.

A WINTER in Norway is more note-worthy
than summer, according to the notions of an
English stranger. In the first place, the cold
is much more thorough than we get it at