CHAPTER V
SUMMER: TAKING THE ANIMALS UP TO THE SAETER
Upward over the open slope across the valley from Hoel Farm a lengthyprocession was taking its way.
Kjersti Hoel stood at the window of her room, following the processionwith her eyes as long as she could, for soon it would vanish from theopen slope into the wooded part of the mountain. The herds belonging toHoel Farm were that day being taken up to the saeter,[8] to spend thesummer grazing on the rich grass which grows in sunny spaces here andthere on the mountain heights.
[8] Pronounced (approximately) say'ter.
At the head of the procession rode the milkmaid on the militaryhorse,[9] which for this occasion had a woman's saddle upon its back.The saddle had a high frame, so that it looked almost like aneasy-chair; and the milkmaid sitting aloft on it, dressed in her best,and with a white linen kerchief on her head, was rosy, plump, and alsosomewhat self-conscious, for was not she the most important person inthe company, the one who was to give all the commands?
[9] In some districts of Norway the farmers are required to keep one or more horses subject to the needs of the government, under certain conditions of use and payment.
After her came two farm hands, each leading a horse whose back fairlycurved in under its heavy load. Then followed the herds in order ofrank. First came the bell cow, then Brindle with her wounded horn thathad grown on awry, then Crookhorn, then Darkey, and behind Darkey thewhole long train of cows,--all except two, old Moolley and the pet, WeeBonny, who were to stay at home to furnish milk for the people thereand to teach the new calves to follow. After the cows stalked the bigbull, as if acting as rear guard for his herd.
Next came the goats, hurrying along and trying to get ahead; then thesheep in a tight clump; and behind these, four great pigs and a fewcalves; while at the very end of the train came the under-milkmaid, andLisbeth Longfrock with her lunch bag on her back.
In the beginning all had gone as gayly as a dance, for almost every onehad pleasant memories of the summer before, and it seemed impossible toreach the mountain top quickly enough; but as they mounted, the waybecame steeper and steeper, and the sun rose higher and higher, burningtheir backs. The pigs began to lag behind, trying to branch off atevery side path so as to get a little nap in the shade or coolthemselves in a mudhole. The sheep and goats, feeling the need ofsomething in their stomachs, slipped aside whenever they spied a youngbirch tree whose leaves they could nibble, or a fence to peep through,or a plot of green grass. The last year's calves, who had not been tothe saeter before, saw no reason at all for hurrying, and made noattempt at it except when the stick was used upon them.
So Lisbeth Longfrock had to keep rushing off the road into side paths,behind bushes, into forest thickets and boggy marshes, to drag thevarious creatures back into line; and scarcely did she get them safelyinto the road from one side before they slipped out again on the other.
She had to take off one of her long knitted garters and tie it aroundher waist so that she could tuck her long frock up out of the way; forshe was constantly on the run, coaxing, shouting, and circumventing.
It was a hard struggle. Her light hair became dripping wet and her facewas as red as a half-ripe mountain cranberry; but Lisbeth did notnotice her discomfort, so absorbed was she in what she had to do. Theunder-milkmaid would return to the farm with the men when the saeter wasreached. It was Lisbeth who was to have the responsibility for thesmaller animals during the whole summer, and who was to bring them homein the autumn fat and glossy. She and the head milkmaid had theirspecial responsibilities, each at her own end of the line, as it were;and even if Lisbeth's was only the tail end, she did not wish to havethe disgrace of being unable to keep it in order.
The procession continued mounting higher and higher, and soon the wholevalley lay below, deep and wide and delicately green. The fir treesbecame smaller and more scattered, the slender birches grew closertogether. Before long the first specimens of black crowberries and "oldwoman's switches" (dwarf birch trees) were seen; and with that theprocession was up over the crest of the mountain side.
THE VALLEY AND THE FARMS]
Then, all at once, it seemed as if a heavy weight slipped off; as ifall weariness was smoothed away from man and beast. The whole mountainsent its freshness and peace streaming over them. They were in a newworld. Before them, with its boundless surface broken into level spacesand undulating slopes, lay the mountain top, stretching itself far, faraway, until lost in the deepening blue of a snow-streaked summit. Ifthey looked back, the valley seemed to have sunk out of sight; but onthe mountain top across the valley they could see wide expanses of openland dotted with shining water and grassy saeter districts.
Drawing a long breath, all gazed silently around. What a tranquillitylay over everything! Of their own accord the animals fell into orderalong the stony road curving endlessly beyond them. They made no moreattempts to branch off into side paths, but walked slowly along at aneven pace. That gave Lisbeth a little time to view her surroundings.She had never seen a place so broad and open. And up here she was tospend the whole bright summer.
All at once, in the midst of this vastness and space, Lisbeth feltherself so wonderfully little! But she was not at all terrified; sheonly felt very solemn and peaceful.
She began to think of the future,--of the rest of the day, the comingsummer, and the many summers that would follow. Sometime she herselfwould be big and grown up, like the head milkmaid, whom she could nowsee sitting on the high saddle far ahead. Sometime she herself wouldsit up there, perhaps, and ride at the front.
The pack horses refused to go slowly now, even under their heavy loads.They forged ahead, passed the mounted milkmaid, and soon disappearedover a distant ridge. The procession followed slowly. Hour after hourit wound its curving way over ridges and brooks, past saeters andshining mountain lakes. Lisbeth had the honor of sitting up in thesaddle and riding awhile, the milkmaid feeling that she would gladlywalk a little.
Evening began to draw nigh. They took their way high up through a gapin the mountain which they had seen in the distance early in themorning. After that the road began to descend. They met with birchtrees again and one single warped fir tree; and from below they heardthe rushing sound of a large river.
They reached at last the edge of the saeter valley to which they werebound, and stood still to look down. Below them lay a comparativelylevel space, peaceful and green, with its three saeter huts, belongingto Hoegseth,[10] Lunde,[11] and Hoel farms. From the chimneys of twoof the huts smoke was ascending in the still afternoon air.
[10] Pronounce the _oe_ like the _e_ in _her_ and _th_ like _t_.
[11] Loond'eh (_oo_ as in _good_).
The gazers were filled with delight. This, then, was the spot wherethey were to spend the summer! The cows began to bellow. The smalleranimals, one and all, started on a run past the cows and down the hill.
* * * * *
Early the next morning Lisbeth was on her way across the mountainpasture with the small animals in her charge. She did not have thelunch bag on her back now, for while she was up at the saeter she was totake dinner at the hut every noon.
The sunshine was brilliant. The cows had been turned loose and werewalking away on the nearest cow path, going in single file as if strungon a line. The leader's bell rang deeply and regularly, its tonemingling with others quite as deep from the neighboring saeters; and inupon this solemn ringing broke the delicate, brisk dingle-dangle of thesmaller creatures' bells.
The time had now come when Lisbeth Longfrock was to make her firstentrance into the vast unknown. The milkmaid had told her that whiletending her animals this first day she should not wander too far, lestshe might not be able to find her way back. She was to listen to theother herders and keep near them. The milkmaid did not know whether theother herders were boys or girls this year.
Lisbeth kept looking back every now and then to keep track of t
he wayshe had come, and was apparently loath to lose sight of the hut; butthe animals drifted rapidly off in the distance and she had to followso as not to lose sight of them altogether, and after a while, when shelooked back, the hut could not be seen. Around her were only theunending wastes of hill and marsh and the faraway mountain peaks. Howspacious and silent it was! Not a sound was to be heard except that ofthe bells; not even the river's rushing harmonies reached up to whereshe stood.
She suddenly felt herself so utterly alone and remote and had such alonging to caress some living creature that she went among the flockand petted now this one and now that. The bell goat became so enviousthat it butted the others out of the way and stood rubbing itselfagainst her.
All at once there came a call, "Ho-i-ho! ho-i-ho!" so loud and clearthat the mountains echoed with it. The goats pricked up their ears, andLisbeth, too, listened breathlessly. The call was so unexpected thatshe had not distinguished from what quarter it came. It sounded near,and yet, because of the echoes, from all directions.
"Ho-i-ho! ho-i-ho!" This time the call was still louder. Presently sheheard bells, several bells, and then she saw a large flock of sheep andgoats come straggling over the crest of a hill.
Very likely it was the other herders who were calling. Lisbeth saw twostraw hats rise above the hill, and by degrees two tall boys seemed togrow up out of the hilltop,--boys about as big as Jacob.
At sight of them Lisbeth felt so shy that she kneeled down and hidherself behind a bushy little mound.
The boys shaded their eyes with their hands and looked down from thehilltop.
"Ho-i-ho!" they called, and then listened. "Ho-i-ho!"
No answer. All was still.
Then one of the boys cried out:
Oh, ho! you boy from Hoel, don't you hear? If you have pluck, we call you to appear!
They stood awhile, watching. Then they darted forward, turned two orthree somersaults, and ran down the hill toward her, repeating theircall and shouting. Again they stopped and listened, as if uncertain.
"Ho-i-ho!" Again they challenged:
If you lie hid behind some bush or stone, Come out and show there's marrow in your bone!
Then the two boys came to the bottom of the hill, where Lisbeth's flockwas, and looked around. No, they did not see any one. The new herderfrom Hoel, who dared to lose track of his flock the first day, must bea reckless young scamp--a fellow it might be fun to get acquaintedwith. Very likely he had heard of their bathing place in the SlopingMarsh. Probably that was where he had gone now.
Well, they would take his animals with them and go there themselves;but first they would give another call. Perhaps he was not so far awaybut that he might hear if they gave a good loud one.
"Ho-i-ho!" From far away echo repeated the sounds in "dwarf language,"as the Norwegian boys call it.
When all was still again, there sounded close at hand, as thin andclear as the peep of a bird, "Ho-i-ho!"
This was from Lisbeth, who, when she heard that they were going to takeher flock away, felt that she ought to call out, although it wasextremely embarrassing.
The boys stopped short, greatly astonished. From behind the bushylittle mound there arose something small, just like a tiny "hillwoman," in a plaid neckerchief and a long frock, who stood stock-stilland looked at them with large, shy eyes.
At sight of her the boys were somewhat abashed. It was a littleembarrassing for them to find that their boastful, taunting rhymes hadbeen directed against a poor timorous "young one," and a girl at that;but it was exasperating, too, for they had expected to see a comrade oftheir own size.
Humph! any one could see that Hoel Farm had women folk at the head ofit. The mistress was not willing that even the herder should be a boy.
If the "young one" had only been bigger,--bigger than themselves,--theycould have shown their contempt for her and chased her; but that littlemidget! no, indeed, grown-up fellows like them did not waste eitherwords or blows on such small fry! It would be a good plan, however, totalk with her a bit and hear whether another herder was not coming totake her place. After that they would have nothing more to do with her.They could get along by themselves for one summer. All that wasnecessary was to frighten her a little, so that she would keep out oftheir way.
They came over to Lisbeth and stood before her, big-boy-like, withtheir hands in their pockets. Then one of them said, "Are you going tobe the Hoel herder this summer?"
"Yes," answered Lisbeth. Then, as if to excuse herself, she addedquickly, "Kjersti wanted me to."
"What is your name?"
"Lisbeth; and Jacob calls me Longfrock."
"Where are you from?"
"From Peerout."
"Are you Jacob Peerout's sister? We went to school with him lastwinter."
"Yes, I am."
"What a nuisance that Jacob himself did not come! We haven't any use atall for young ones like you up here."
The speaker, who was the larger of the two boys, stood awhile waitingfor a reply; but Lisbeth did not know what answer to make to his remarkand therefore said nothing. So he continued: "Well, we only wanted tosay to you--I'm Ole Hoegseth and that fellow over there is PeterLunde--that you must keep out of our way. You must not dare to come astep beyond a line running from Pancake Stone down around the SlopingMarsh to the Pointing Stump near the Hoegseth cow path. If you letyour animals graze beyond that line, your brother Jacob, next winter,shall get all the thrashings you ought to have this summer."
Lisbeth was dreadfully frightened and her mouth began to tremble. Thenthe second boy said to the larger one, "Yes, but Jacob is so strongthat he will get the best of you."
"Not when I have brought myself into good training. Hoi!" and he turneda handspring.
"Now you know what Jacob may expect, so take care what you do! We boysare going up to the Sloping Marsh to bathe. Ho-i-ho!"
With shout and call they took their way up over the hill again. At thetop they looked back and then glanced a little dubiously at each other.Lisbeth Longfrock was still standing where they had left her, and--shewas crying!
Lisbeth felt very small and forlorn as she stood there. She certainlydid not want to do anything that Jacob would get a thrashing for. Ifshe only knew where it was that she was not allowed to go! but she hadnot the least idea where either the Pointing Stump or the Sloping Marshlay. All that she could do would be to keep with her animals and findout about these places later.
Sometime afterwards, when Lisbeth had mounted a small round hill, sheheard the bells of the boys' flocks again. That gave her a fright, andshe began to chase her animals off in another direction. But as sheturned around to do so she saw, far, far down the marsh, two whitefigures running, jumping, and playing leapfrog in the sunshine beside agleaming pond. The boys had let their flocks stray away from them!
Lisbeth dreaded incurring more displeasure, but surely something oughtto be done. There was no help for it; she would really have to takecare of the stray animals for a while. The boys could not be angry atthat, she knew, because the greatest disgrace that can befall a herderis the losing of his flock, and for boys so big as these to go back tothe saeter without any animals would be especially humiliating.
So Lisbeth went to work gathering the flocks together, jumping up on amound every now and then to see if the boys were not ready to come; butthey appeared to have forgotten everything except their play.
At length she saw that the boys suddenly stood still and listened,peering about in all directions. Then they started into activity again,snatched up their clothes, put them on in great haste, and started offon a run toward the opposite edge of the marsh. Every little while theywould stop and listen, and then run on again. They were so far off thatthere was no use in Lisbeth's shouting to them or trying to give thecall "Ho-i-ho!"
When the boys reached a round hill that lay on the other side of themarsh, they ran to the top and again peered in all directions for along time. Then, as fast as their legs could carry them, they madet
heir way back across the marsh straight toward the small round hillwhere Lisbeth was. As they neared it Lisbeth thought that now was thetime to give the herder's call, for the flocks were on the other sideof the hill and their bells could not be heard by the boys. Her firstcall was too weak. She gave another somewhat stronger.
The boys stopped and answered.
Lisbeth called again, "Ho-i-ho!" and then the boys came up the hill.They found it a little difficult to break the silence. It was ratherannoying to be obliged to question that "young one" about their flocks;but there was no other way.
"Have you seen our animals?"
Lisbeth looked at them pleadingly. "They are here at the foot of thehill. I have been taking care of them, but you must not thrash Jacobfor it."
The boys looked as they felt,--rather crestfallen. But they had to saysomething, so Ole remarked, as they turned and left her, "Oh, well, we'll let him off for this one time."
* * * * *
When Lisbeth went to fasten the gate of the fold that evening PeterLunde came bobbing along outside the fence.
"You haven't a strange sheep here, have you?"
"No; I have counted mine."
"Well, perhaps I counted mine wrong. Very likely they are all there."
The two stood looking at each other for a while; then both grew shy andhad to turn their eyes away. At last Peter said: "Lisbeth, if you wantto, you may tend your flock wherever we tend ours, and you may come toour pond. I understood Ole to say that he is willing, too; but if hemakes any fuss about it, why I _can_ thrash him if I really want to."
"Yes, I will come gladly, you may be sure."
"Well, then, I will come after you to-morrow morning, back of the hillhere."
Lisbeth did not get a chance to say anything more, for Peter was offlike a flash around the corner. He had seen Ole coming.
Ole came lounging along in his usual fashion, with his hands in hispockets.
"You haven't seen a strange sheep, have you?"
"No."
"Humph!"
"Is one of yours missing?"
"Oh, I don't know exactly. Humph! I thought I would tell you that youneed not bother yourself about what I said to-day. I did not meananything by it. It was Peter that made me say it; and if you want meto, I can thrash him for it to-morrow."