Part 19 (1/2)

Another thing to look out for on these mountain lakes is that a bit of wind very quickly makes quite fair-sized waves, which, with a heavily loaded boat, may lop in over the side, if your helmsman is not very careful, and swamp the boat. So it is foolishness for any Scout to go on this sort of expedition unless he can swim.

In fact, every Scout ought to be able to swim; he is no use till he can, and he will always find it useful to know something of sea scouting.

The oars of Norwegian boats are worked not in rowlocks, or crutches, or between thole pins, as at home, but on a single thole pin, to which they are attached by a ”strop” or loop.

This is a useful dodge to know of in case one of your thole pins breaks, as sometimes happens.

[Ill.u.s.tration: How the oars in Norwegian boats are worked.]

In Norway, the strop is made of a stick of birchwood (hazel does equally well), which is first twisted and twisted round to such an extent that it is as flexible and as strong as a length of rope, and is tied by twisting its ends round itself, as shown in _Scouting for Boys_.

A Scout should be able at any time to twist a stick into rope, but to do it successfully he must know which kind of wood to pick out for it.

That is one reason for knowing the different kinds of trees by sight.

While we sailed along we trailed a line astern of us with some tempting-looking flies on it in the hope that we might get a trout for dinner.

Suddenly, just when we were in the middle of a busy time over a squall of wind, there came a tug, tug, and a pull at our line. All was at once excitement.

”Down mast and sail!” ”Reel in the line!” ”Hold the boat with the oars!” ”Don't let him break away!”

Steadily he is hauled, kicking and rolling over in the water, and at last he is safely lifted into the boat--a fine, silvery, speckled trout.

”What a dinner he will make!”

”How would you like him, grilled, fried, or boiled?”

Alas! we thought a good deal about what sort of dinner he would make.

And he did make a dinner, too--but not for us!

We presently heard Bruce crunching and munching something. He had not waited for the fish to be fried, or grilled, or boiled. He just ate him as he was. We only had bread and b.u.t.ter and coffee for dinner that day--without any trout. We didn't even mention trout during the meal.

We didn't seem to want any, or we pretended we didn't.

Still, we had a very jolly dinner at a beautiful spot where we landed on the sh.o.r.e of the lake. Then after a further bit of sailing and rowing we reached the end of the lake.

Here we hauled up our boat high and dry, leaving all her gear in her, for n.o.body steals things in Norway. We ”humped our packs” on to our backs, and, with rod and gun in hand and the dogs trotting alongside, we started up the hills through the forest, bogs, and rocks, to get to the farm three miles away, where we were to spend the night at the foot of the mountains.

THE JASJVOLD SAETER.

That means the name of the farm where we stopped, and we made it our headquarters for several days.

”Saeter” means ”summer farm.” The Norwegian farmers are mostly dairy and cattle farmers, and in the summer they take their herds up on to the high ground for the grazing, and bring them back into the lower and warmer valleys in winter.

Our farmer at Jasjvold was named Slackman; and he was a slack man to look at--very wild and unkempt, with a tousled head of hair, and a rough beard; clothed in a blue jumper, and breeches and rough stockings, and carrying a big knife in his belt, he looked as if he could and would willingly slit your throat while you were asleep; but on Sundays he was a very different character.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE JASJVOLD SAETER.]

Even away up here in the mountains, far away from any neighbours, he did not forget to keep the Sabbath, and he appeared very clean and smart, neatly dressed, with white collar and tie, hair and beard trimmed, and altogether so different that at first glance I did not recognise him on Sunday morning.